


Big Brother

by ColetheWolf



Series: M.O.R.P.H [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Breeding, Brother/Brother Incest, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Fingerfucking, Hypnotism, Kissing, M/M, Master Tech, Mind Break, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Reprogramming, Riding, Rough Oral Sex, Sleepovers, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Stiles, Wet & Messy, bottom!Derek, cockslut!Derek, top!scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21900748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: Stiles finds a mysterious tablet hidden away in Scott's room, only to find out that the tablet has the ability to change somebody's body, mind, desires, sexuality, and morals. Even more surprising, Stiles finds out that Scott has been using the tablet's software to fuck his older brother, Derek...and Stiles wants in on the action.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: M.O.R.P.H [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577614
Comments: 157
Kudos: 577





	1. M.O.R.P.H

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dreams of the Unseen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875601) by [Notsalony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsalony/pseuds/Notsalony). 



> "Master Tech" has become a whole new kind of kink that I've gotten into lately, especially with the Teen Wolf fandom. Honestly, there needs to be more of it. But this whole thing started when I was talking to a friend about some TW Master Tech fics and we decided to try our hands at writing our own. Originally, I was going to make this a one chapter kind of deal, but I think it'll end up being at least 3 for this fic. I also plan on making a "Master Tech" fic universe with the same tech program I made up. 
> 
> Check out my friend's Master Tech Teen Wolf Fic:
> 
> [Logistical Override of Biological Organisms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727225/chapters/51829399) by [Scerek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scerek/pseuds/scerek)
> 
> What is Master Tech? Well, it's a tablet (software) that allows you to edit somebody's whole existence. You can edit how they look, how they carry themselves, their sexuality, their memories, dreams, morals, etc. In my universe, the software is called M.O.R.P.H and it's on a tablet that Scott just randomly found (in this fic). But it's useful and can be used for all kinds of dirty deeds, as you'll see. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: 
> 
> So, this fic is marked with "Rape/Non-Con" warnings due to the fact that Derek doesn't have a say in his reprogramming. He doesn't know/remember that it's happening and will be made to be completely oblivious to the fact that Scott and Stiles are using some kind of alien software to edit him and make him do things he wouldn't normally do.

Stiles hadn’t slept over at Scott’s house since the fifth grade—not because it wasn’t something he wanted to do, but because sleepovers just weren’t as fun as they used to be. Back then, a sleepover meant conquering the challenge of staying up past midnight without passing out. It meant getting to swallow down hoards of junk food that would ultimately result in a dramatic stomachache sometime during the night. It meant hanging out with friends. That was about it.

But sleepovers became significantly less exciting once the challenge of staying up past midnight was no longer that much of a challenge, but rather—normal everyday life. Plus, Stiles’ stomach had matured a lot since the fifth grade and he could quite happily pack away an entire large pizza and a whole 2-liter of strawberry cola without as much of an unsettled stomach gurgle. And it wasn’t like Stiles didn’t already see Scott everyday at school and at lacrosse practice.

However, Stiles’ father’s annual police taskforce conference rolled around and it meant that his dad would be jetting off to Colorado for a few days because that’s where the conference was—and he was meant to be the event’s guest speaker. Normally, the whole conference thing meant that Stiles would have the entire house to himself. But thanks to an outbreak of home burglaries in Beacon Hills, John insisted that Stiles spend the remainder of the week at a friend’s house. Sure, Stiles was a bit bummed, but he was excited to see what sleepovers could be like at the age of eighteen. Plus, he didn’t have a problem helping keep his own father’s mind unhindered by worry.

Stiles parked his jeep in front of Scott’s house and hopped out. He reached back inside of his jeep and grabbed hold of his overnight bag’s straps, tugging at it from where it was slouched over in the backseat of the jeep. Eventually, Stiles was able to pull the bag free from its positioning—grunting out with strain as he found himself truly battling against the bag’s ultimate weight. But that’s what was to be expected when packing an “overnight” bag with much more than just a standard night’s necessities.

Lugging the bag up the length of Scott’s driveway and all the way up to the front door of the house took Stiles way longer than he would have liked to admit, but he was still successful, nonetheless. He was only slightly winded and broken out in a moderate amount of sweat. Still—beating at the front door with heavy, frantic knocks was like crossing the finish line of a marathon.

The front door was eventually pulled open around the thirtieth or fiftieth knock to reveal Scott McCall in all of his typical puppyish glamour. He was smiling cheek-to-cheek—clearly excited about having a sleepover, despite the fact that it was supposed to not be “cool” at the age that the two of them were. But who the hell stuck to the status quo, anyways? Stiles and Scott were self-certified rebels.

Scott was wearing a regular maroon tank-top that hugged the ridges of his pecs and abs nicely. It also happened to show off the bicep tattoo that Scott was still very much proud of having inked on his body. He was also wearing a pair of tight sweatpants that also showed off another thing that Scott was surely equally as proud to have. A nice dick! Even Jackson Whittemore—the preppy bitch boy jock at school—felt obligated to stop and stare whenever Scotty dropped his towel.

But even though Scott was tatted, Stiles was certain that he had his best friend beat in the “my parents would kill me for having this” department. Stiles had a straight-barbell nipple piercing in solid silver through his left nipple and he had to admit that despite the initial pain of the piercing, it would definitely gave him an edge up in the hotness competition with the other guys at school when he revealed it. A tattoo was nice—and pretty hot. But not even the most popular guys at school had their nipple pierced, at least none of the guys that Stiles scoped out.

“Dude, you could have called to tell me that you were here.” Scott said, beaming down to the massive overnight bag that was settled at Stiles’ feet. “I would have helped you bring in your luggage.”

“Yeah—well, it wasn’t that hard to do.” Stiles huffed, rubbing at where the bag’s straps had dug into his shoulder blade.

Scott chuckled. “I guess you’re just naturally sweaty and out of breath.”

“In that case—” Stiles squinted dejectedly, kicking the bag with one of his feet to nudge Scott’s attention down to where it remained on the porch. “—I’ll see you _and_ my bag inside.”

Stiles breezed past where Scott was standing in the threshold of the door, patting the werewolf on the firmness of his chest for extra encouragement as he stepped into the warmth of the house. All the while, Scott snickered and shook his head—beating himself up for stepping right into Stiles’ quick wit. He reached down and picked up Stiles’ bag with ease, thanks to his enhanced werewolf strength, figuring that it would be just a little funny to place the bag on top of Stiles while he was sleeping to see if he’d be able to get up or not.

Once inside, Scott dropped the bag off upstairs in his bedroom and then returned downstairs to find Stiles rummaging through the content of the fridge. It was already six-thirty in the evening, so yeah—it was time for dinner. But there was nothing worth salivating over in the fridge considering the fact that the McCall residence was a good couple weeks overdue for a grocery haul.

“Shit.” Stiles groaned, cradling his stomach with one of his arms. “Should I have picked up some pizza on the way over here?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Scott reassured. “Derek’s about to get off from work and I told him to pick up some Chinese take-out for dinner and to get some snacky shit for the next few days.”

Stiles grimaced, shutting the fridge door. “Okay, but like—his idea of ‘snacky shit’ consists of vegetables, steamed chicken, and protein shakes.”

“He better fucking not.”

Derek was Scott’s older brother. He worked downtown at _Champ_ , which was the most popular gym in the entire city. And not only did Derek work a gym, but he also looked and acted the part of somebody who did fitness of the living. For starters, he only ate healthy food. Secondly, Derek was a total fucking beefcake. When he wasn’t at the gym working, he was at the gym working out his muscles—and it really showed. Like, sure—Derek was also a werewolf, like Scott, which definitely helped when it came to fat-burning and muscle definition— but not even the other werewolves Stiles knew looked quite as good as Derek.

And maybe it was because looks weren’t everything. Yes, Derek had it going the fuck on. He had gorgeous muscles and a perfectly sharp stubbled jawline, as well as striking bright eyes and an ass that you could bounce a dime on. But Derek also had a captivating personality and way that he carried himself. He was obnoxiously heterosexual, but not like the loud frat guys that frequented the local bars. His heterosexuality was more obnoxious in the way that he always worked out, smelt like smoky, earthy deliciousness, drove a dope car, and had a majorly hot girlfriend.

Stiles knew that if there really was some kind of higher power, it had the cruelest sense of humor. Because really, who in their right mind could look at Derek and think, “oh yeah, let’s make this man really good looking and addictively interesting in every kind of way…but he’s straight”. It was ridiculous and Stiles was just lucky that he had honed his skill of oogling Derek from a safe distance without ever letting Scott know that his own bestie had the hots for his big bro.

◭

Twenty minutes later, there was an extremely loud commotion downstairs at the front door of the house. There were loud bangs and audible disgruntled mumbles. Scott and Stiles booked it downstairs from where they had been lounged around in Scott’s shared bedroom—waiting around for their dinner delivery—because it was obvious as to who was causing all of the sudden commotion. After all, disgruntled mumbling was practically Derek’s brand.

“It’s about damn time.” Stiles jeered, bouncing over to where Derek was standing in the foyer with plastic takeout bags in his hands. “I guess we won’t be put to bed hungry tonight, Scotty.”

“ _Shut the fuck up_.” Derek grumbled, shooting Stiles one of his famous glares as he shoved the bags into Stiles’ hold and then pushed past where Scott was standing expectantly.

Scott playfully bumped up against Derek’s shoulder, catching his attention. “Bad day at work or something?”

Derek only grimaced in response—letting the inherent boldness of his expressive eyebrows answer what he considered to be a stupid question. Scott just raised his hands in surrender, pleading to not get pummeled. He figured that there really wasn’t any point in trying to pull information out of his older brother. After all, Derek liked to keep to himself, that’s just how he was. He was a broody shit and all of that pent up steam rarely came out to play.

Stiles watched as Derek made his way upstairs. He tracked the careful bounce of Derek’s ass as he took his steps, taking mental snapshots of the curvature of Derek’s ass, the broadness of his shoulders, and the shape of his back muscles that pressed through the back of his tight shirt. He couldn’t help but think that it was unfair somebody could look hot from the front and from the back.

“Eat upstairs of down here?” Stiles asked, pushing an eggroll into his mouth. The majority of the food was still in the plastic takeout bags, but Stiles was hungry and eggrolls were too tempting.

“Uh—upstairs.”

Stiles nodded in agreement as Scott pivoted at led the way upstairs. Both of Stiles’ hands were full with takeout and there was still a half-eaten egg roll stuffed into his mouth, hanging out the corner of his lips like a cigar. But it was the best that Stiles could do to avoid losing his precious food as he kept up the casual conversation.

“Are you sure Derek isn’t going to get all pissy with us for eating in his bedroom?” Stiles asked, slightly mumbled.

“It’s not just his room.” Scott said, rounding the wooden threshold of the bedroom. “So—Derek can get fucked.”

Luckily for both Scott and Stiles, Derek wasn’t even in the bedroom to complain about the unwanted company. He was across the hallway in the bathroom, taking a post-work shower that probably wouldn’t do much to flood away his bad attitude. But at least that it meant there weren’t be any brotherly screaming or passive aggressive remarks for a good fifteen minutes or so. It gave Scott and Stiles plenty of time to eat their dinner and watch some TV in peace.

The two settled on Scott’s side of the bedroom and eagerly opened up the couple bags of takeout—pulling out the plastic utensils and cardboard containers. Scott hopped up and sat down atop his mattress, which was embarrassingly cluttered with clothes and papers that had been previously stuffed inside of his backpack at one point in time. Yes, his side of the room was messier than the prim and phenomenally organized side that belonged to Derek. And sure, to complete outsiders, even the slightest glimpse of Scott’s mess would unnerve an appetite.

Luckily, Stiles’ stomach was just as strong as his ability to annoy the living shit out of Derek. He didn’t mind Scott’s messy room—considering the fact that his room back at his own house was nearly just as tossed around. But all of the mess left no room whatsoever to sit on Scott’s bed, so Stiles opted to take a seat on the bedroom floor, just below where Scott was hoisted up. Stiles sat with his legs crossed, Chinese food containers tucked in-between his calf muscles, with his back pushed flush against the horizontal length of Scott’s twin-sized bed.

As the two ate their dinner, Scott flipped through the channels of the TV that was situated on the dresser across the room and right next to Derek’s bed. Unfortunately, there really didn’t seem to be anything even remotely interesting to watch. So Scott settled on a random rerun of a _Twilight Zone_ episode that seemed as though it had the potential to evolve into something entertaining. But seeing as how Stiles was almost done with his meal and Derek’s shower time was coming closer to a close, it didn’t really matter seeing as how they’d get booted back downstairs when Derek returned to do his nightly yoga stretches.

Stiles finished off his last eggroll with a couple hefty swallows and then set his bag of empty containers to the side. He looked down around where he was still seated, down to the random articles of Scott’s discarded clothing—carefully trying to pick out a t-shirt or pair of shorts that could function as a napkin for his own greasy fingers. After all, all of the clothes on the floor needed to take a dip in the nearest laundry machine and Scott wasn’t going to mind a few grease stains anyways.

Eventually, Stiles caught sight of a striped red and white t-shirt—something that he had never actually seen Scott wear before. He reached out and tugged at the fabric, pulling it into his grasp before using it to wipe off his fingers, hands, and lips. But then as he went to toss away the dirtier version of an already dirty shirt, Stiles found himself caught on the sight of what looked like some sleek and fancy new tablet device that had been previously covered by Scott’s dirty clothes.

Stiles set his “napkin” to the side and then reached over to pick up the tablet. It was extremely lightweight in his hands, almost like he was holding air. The tablet was about the size of a standard iPad, but it definitely wasn’t manufactured by any tech company that he knew about. There was something incredibly advanced and futuristic about the minimalistic sleekness of it all. Plus, the entire tablet was somewhat transparent. It was like a slab of thin tinted glass, yet had a few buttons and no sharp edges.

As Scott remained invested in watching TV and continuing with his dinner, Stiles analyzed the tablet as best he could. He tilted it around and looked at it—through it, even—at different angles. He ran his fingertips across the screen, held it up to his ears, and even decided to take a whiff of it for good measure. After all, he was the son of a sheriff and it was always important to cover all of your bases when presented with a new mystery. It wasn’t Stiles’ fault that he was naturally inquisitive.

But then Stiles’ thumb accidentally slid across one of the sleek buttons that were located at the bottom of the tablet’s front—sparking the mysterious device to awaken from its slumber with a soft, hummed note. And then just as suddenly as it turned on, it started to speak with a robotic, yet calming male-toned voice. It sounded nearly human, yet mixed with just a tinge of robot. Still—the automated voice was more human-sounding when compared to any other AI voices.

“Welcome to **MORPH**.” The voice noted calmly.

A loading page popped up with what appeared to be an acronym— ** _M.O.R.P.H_** —centered on the screen. The page looked like it was some kind of high-tech alien software, with brightly pulsing honeycomb wiring and a crisp view at what was clearly some kind of galaxy starburst clouds. And yet, the picture was so crisp and high quality that it didn’t even look like a picture. It didn’t look like something that could be displayed on a video screen. It looked like a window into something beyond Earth, like Stiles could reach out through the tablet screen and touch the stars.

“Hey, what the FUCK?” Scott screamed out, throwing his Chinese food off of his lap. He made a mad scramble off his bad—grabbing at the tablet that Stiles kept firmly in his hands. “Give it back. Stop! Don’t—touch anything. Give it to me, Stiles.”

Stiles laughed childishly, purposely holding the tablet out of Scott’s grasp with one hand whilst using his other hand to push into Scott’s chest, keeping him away from getting his mysterious device back. “Ooooh, Scotty—whatcha hiding on here? Hmm? Are you some kind of closeted drug dealer? Is this your top secret access to the black market?”

Through Scott’s loud clamoring and frantic movement, Stiles looked down to the screen to see that the loading page’s loading bar had progressed rather quickly. It was booting up quicker than his laptop back at his house—that was for sure. And after a couple more seconds, the progress bar hit 100% and flashed black for a moment, before flashing back on with an entirely new page—one that was certainly more interesting, yet just as confusing as the first one.

It seemed to be the homepage to a much larger network named “ **M.O.R.P.H** ”. At the top of the homepage, there were three simple options to click— **HOME** , **PROFILE** , and **ABOUT**. But at the very top right-hand corner of the page, there was a tiny profile picture of Scott with the words, “ _Welcome Back, Scott_ ” typed out. A warm welcome—obviously, Scott had used “ **M.O.R.P.H** ” previously…if his desperate attempt to get it back into his clutches hadn’t made that obvious enough.

On the homepage, there was a spinning graphic of the planet Earth with flickering white lights occasionally flashing around on the various landmasses. Available subjects, Stiles guessed. The device was obviously some kind of special alien Google, so he thought. But the weird part about the homepage was that it also provided the ability to click on _“recent searches”_ , _“saved searched”_ , and _“clear history”_ , as well as it provided a search bar for typing in names. But strangely enough, there was already a name typed out in the search bar— _Derek Hale_ —Scott’s older, jerkier brother.

“Dude, what even is this?” Stiles scoffed with a laugh, taking in every detail that he could pull from the tablet’s interface.

Scott huffed out dramatically—kicking in just a bit of his werewolf strength in an attempt to push Stiles’ arm out of the way. Stiles was a human, so it shouldn’t have been a challenge, but it really didn’t help. Stiles practically became an immovable obstacle when he wanted to be stubborn. Of course, Scott was well aware of his best friend’s less fun qualities, but it didn’t make being on the receiving end of Stiles’ stubbornness any more tolerable.

“Stiles—just fucking give it back to me and stop being such a dick.” Scott grit his teeth.

“Nah, no way.” Stiles laughed. “Just tell me what it is or I swear to God I’ll release my inner five year old and tattle on you to your mom—or your brother. I’ll let you pick, but only if you tell me the secrets of your obviously illegal technology right now.”

“It’s not illegal.” Scott noted dejectedly, halting his attempt to reclaim the tablet from Stiles’ grasp. He composed himself and rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling as if to help him find even the slightest bit of strength to actually find words to say to Stiles.

Stiles kicked away from underneath where Scott loomed over him, scooting back on his ass across the carpeted floor to put some distance between the two of them. And then he held the tablet up to his chest, crossing both of his arms in front of it so that he could hold it like a really precious book that a schoolgirl in an anime would hold. Scott just looked uneasy about the whole thing and almost looked like he was about to cry, but Stiles didn’t fold—he waited around for an explanation.

“It’s—a tablet.” Scott started, only to get immediately interrupted by a loud, overly dramatic and sarcastic gasp from Stiles.

“A tablet?!” Stiles asked theatrically. “No way. I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“It’s called ‘ **M.O.R.P.H** ’.” Scott shifted around on the heels of his feet, crossing his arms whilst avoiding direct eye-contact with where Stiles was looking up at him, expectantly. “It lets you—like, change people…around. Who they are and how they are.”

Stiles raised a single eyebrow, confused by the very confusing explanation. “Change people? Like, Hacks their instagram and changes their bio around into something they totally wouldn’t write themselves?”

“No—like, it changes their minds. And bodies. It’s like when you start a new MMORPG and the first thing you have to do is create your character, and there’re all those sliders and options for customization. Except, this is real life.”

Stiles tried to study Scott’s face, but all he could see was worry and embarrassment, which wasn’t really much to go on. So he looked back down to the tablet’s homepage and clicked on the option that read: _“ABOUT: What is MORPH?”_. Immediately, the screen brought up another page that looked like some futuristic dictionary entry about **M.O.R.P.H** —though it was very simplistically and intellectually written.

“Change…features, personality…sexuality…morals…” Stiles read through the tablet’s supposed capabilities, breathing the occasional word or two underneath his breath as he did so. And then he looked back up to Scott—still confused, yet getting closer to seeing the whole picture.

“So you can literally just search up somebody—anybody—and turn them, let’s say, from shy to confident?” Stiles asked. “Or like—from 5 foot 4 to 6 foot 3? Or like—straight…to full on gay?”

“Yeah.” Scott admitted, almost solemnly.

“So then why do you…have Derek’s name saved up into the search bar?”

Scott knew that he could try to lie, but Stiles would catch on. He was far too perceptive and never passed up the opportunity to launch a full on investigation into even the tiniest thing possible. And well, the tablet wasn’t some minuscule thing. It was huge—a box of genuine intrigue and mystery—and Stiles wasn’t going to drop it until he got to the bottom of it.

“I mess around with his settings sometimes.” Scott blurted, recoiling just slightly with a bite at his own bottom lip. But then he pressed forward with the rest of his explanation. It wasn’t going to get any easier. “I fuck him…sometimes, I make him gay and way sluttier than he actually is…and he takes it…but I swear I reset his settings back to normal afterwards. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t know—so, come on, please. You can’t tell—wait…”

Scott’s hypersensitive nose caught a whiff of arousal—extremely potent and eager arousal, wafting up straight from where Stiles was sitting down on the ground. He tuned his hearing in to the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat, only to hear it pumping fiercely with what seemed to be excitement. Not only that, but Scott could literally hear Stiles’ breathing change, he could smell Stiles’ interest peak strong and unapologetically. It was unmistakable—Stiles was turned on to the whole thing.

“Wait—are you getting turned on over this?” Scott’s worry immediately began to dwindle down. He couldn’t detect even the slightest bit of shock or fear or disgust from Stiles’ body. Even after being told that his best friend uses alien technology to fuck his big brother—Stiles wasn’t running for the hills.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles shouted cheerfully. He jumped up to stand from where he had been previously curled up on the floor guarding the tablet with his arms, springing forward to grab at the sides of Scott’s shoulders. “Don’t play with me right now. I could fucking blow my load right now, Scotty—I swear, touch it!”

Scott immediately looked down in-between the tight space of where their individual bodies were practically pressed right up onto one another. And sure enough, he could see a massive bulge pulsating inside the dense denim of Stiles’ jeans. And without even really thinking through Stiles’ words—without figuring out as to whether or not he was just exaggerating—Scott reached down and splayed a palm across Stiles’ bulge, feeling the boy’s heat strike powerfully against the skin of his hand.

“ _Shit._ ” Scott breathed, unable to pull his eyes away from where they were beamed down to where his hand was placed against his best friend’s throbbing dick.

“See—I told you.”

“You’re not weirded out by this?” Scott asked, looking up into the amber of Stiles’ eyes. “I just told you that I use this magical tablet to fuck my brother and you’re—hard…as fuck, _Jesus fucking Christ, you’re hard and I’m touching your dick_.”

“Derek’s the hottest guy I know, besides Jackson.” Stiles said with a snorted laugh. “I would fuck Derek if he were my _father_.”

Scott looked back down to where Stiles’ cock pulsed in his hand. “I would have told you about this tablet sooner if I knew you were so—open.”

“Well, I know about it now.” Stiles acknowledged, raising the tablet up to hold in-between his and Scott’s chests. He looked down at the screen and clicked up onto the available option of: _“PROFILE: Change Profile”_.

Scott’s profile was the first thing to register on the tablet’s screen, but only because it was obvious that Scott was logged into the tablet’s system. But still—the profile was an amazing sight to behold. It provided a profile picture for Scott, which had clearly been uploaded by Scott himself on account of how dorky and sickeningly adorable he looked. But the profile also provided a streamlined list of important details pertaining specifically to Scott—full name, age, weight, eye color—just standard things.

But that wasn’t what caught Stiles’ attention. In addition to simple information, the **M.O.R.P.H** profile for Scott also provided things that were a bit more personal. It included Scott’s sexuality, his species, his address, sexual positioning preference, and most surprisingly—his dick size. Which—Stiles had always kind of figured all thanks to a few curious wandering gazes in the locker rooms back at school—but according to the tablet, Scott’s dick was eight inches, cut.

“Yeah, it lists everything.” Scott noted smartly. “And that’s not even the best the tablet can do. There’s so much you can do with this.”

“Wait—I want to see what my profile says.” Stiles said eagerly.

“Just click back over to the homepage—” Scott started, but Stiles was already two-steps ahead of him. His eagerness knew no bounds and Stiles was clearly comfortable with the interface.

“Have you ever looked me up on this thing before, Scotty? Ever been curious about anything in particular, hmmm?” Stiles joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Stiles clicked over to the homepage and down to where the search bar was located. Once he backspaced Derek’s name out of the way, he typed in: STILES STILINSKI, immediately searching the name to see if anything would come up. And sure enough, he was the only Stiles Stilinski available in the United States. It wasn’t a surprise, his name was very unique. But what was surprising, even after being told what the tablet had the power to do, was that the search came back with Stiles’ full name—first, middle, and last.

“Holy shit!” Stiles snickered, raising one of his hands up to rest on his nipple. “It knows that I have my nipple pierced? I just fucking got that—nobody knows.”

“ **M.O.R.P.H** does, apparently.” Scott said, looking down to where Stiles was casually rubbing at his own nipple. “And wait—what? You pierced your nipple?”

Stiles bit at his lip. “Yeah—I thought it’d look pretty hot. It added a whole different level of sensitivity too, though. Like, when I pinch at it, I swear my dick twitches. Like, is that even possible?”

“A nipple-to-dick wiring?” Scott rubbed at the back of his own neck, pondering what was probably the dumbest question in the history of questions. “I don’t know. I guess?”

Scott reached out and lightly swatted Stiles’ hand out of the way so that he could thumb over where the outline of a barbell piercing stuck through the fabric of Stiles’ shirt. With his second hand, he brought it back down to splay over where Stiles was hard in his pants. Scott thumbed at Stiles’ nipple and waited for a moment to see if Stiles’ dick would twitch in response—and sure enough it did.

“Oh my fucking god, it did.” Scott snorted, thumbing slightly harder.

Stiles swallowed hard and then playfully shoved back against Scott’s sturdy chest. “Ha, stop it. There’s only so much nipple play I can take before I bust. Trust me, I know.”

“Whatever, freak.”

Stiles and Scott looked down to the tablet’s face and just stared for a moment—unable to figure out what they were supposed to do with it. Scott knew what he would like to do with it, and it seemed like Stiles wanted to do the same kind of shit with it, too. But even though Stiles responded positively to the revelation, Scott couldn’t help but feel just a tad bit curious as to whether or not Stiles would back down and end up weirded out.

“So—you said that you change around Derek’s settings and make him fuck you.” Stiles noted, clicked backwards to the homepage—gearing up for a new search. “Do you think we’d be able to change him up just enough so that he’d fuck both of us without question?”

Scott blinked away the momentary shock that _no_ —Stiles really wasn’t weirded out, not even the slightest. “Uh, yeah—but do you mean that you wanna get fucked _by_ him…or you want to actually fuck him?”

“Fuck _him_.” Stiles clarified, typing Derek’s name into the search bar—hitting the search button. “Like, balls deep in your big bro. Oh fuck, do you think we could make him blow us first?”

Scott grabbed the tablet out of Stiles’ hands. “Dude—we can make him do _anything_ we want and just reset him after we’re done. He won’t even fucking remember.”

Stiles gave a couple excited hops in place where he was standing and then stepped around to stand beside Scott so that they could both look on to the tablet to see what was happening. Derek’s profile had quickly loaded up with all of the same standard profile information that had been displayed for both Scott and Stiles’ individual profiles, but naturally—Stiles was curious as to a few key pieces of Derek’s info.

“Are you fucking— _holy_ —Derek’s cock is nine and a half inches? And that’s his base stats? You didn’t raise that number up?”

“No. Derek’s just big-dicked blessed.”

Scott clicked over to the available options that were listed underneath Derek’s profile picture and then selected the _“edit profile”_ option. Immediately, all of the available information that was listed for Derek turned into editable text boxes that could be erased and rewritten. So Scott clicked down to where Derek’s sexuality was listed as “straight” and deleted it, replacing his sexuality to read: “gay”. And then just as quickly as he edited the first bit of Derek’s person, Scott erased Derek’s sexual positioning preference from reading: “top”, so that it could be replaced with the word “bottom”.

“It was that easy?” Stiles asked, watching as Scott confirmed his changes to Derek’s base information. “He likes guys now?”

“ _And_ he likes it up the ass now.” Scott brought his hand up—palm splayed open, enticing Stiles into a victorious high-five.

Just then, Scott and Stiles heard the sound of the shower shut off from across the hall. They froze in place with the tablet in their hands and listened to the sound of the shower curtain’s metal hooks scrape open across the shower rod, as Derek’s whistling continued. Derek was finished washing up…but Scott and Stiles still had a few more things that they needed to change within Derek’s programming for their own benefit.


	2. Cock Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek returns from his shower and steps right into the palms of Scott and Stiles' mischievous hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took so long to get this done. Sorry, but I've been in a slump. But I've finished it and I hope you'll enjoy it. There'll be one more chapter for this fic.

“Is he just going to walk in here and start sucking our dicks?” Stiles questioned seriously, palming aimlessly down to where he was still hard in his pants. 

Scott shook his head. “Not yet. We still have to fix some of his internal settings before he really gets into the right mindset.”

The two claimed a seat atop of where Scott’s bed was still messy as hell. They quickly huddled together side-by-side, making it so that they could both comfortably see the tablet’s power at work. Stiles watched attentively as Scott clicked at the “M.O.R.P.H Derek Hale” button option that was listed underneath Derek’s picture on his newly edited **M.O.R.P.H** profile. 

Suddenly, a whole different interface window popped up onto the tablet’s screen. But this time, at the top of the page, the M.O.R.P.H log was accompanied by the words “architect mode”—signifying the fact that the program quite literally had the ability to redesign and build a better Derek. The new page also had a sleek toolbar feature, which listed possible selections such as: BODY, PERSONALITY, MIND, ATTRIBUTES, and RESET, which was clearly the button that Scott pressed to reset Derek back to his boringly heterosexual self. 

Scott clicked onto the “MIND” tab for Derek’s architect mode, which brought up a brilliantly designed page that was coded to look like the technical workings of a brain. There were tiny flickering lights that coursed around wiry vein-like structures to symbolize firing synapses and the active thoughts from Derek’s mind. But the most interesting aspect of the “MIND” page consisted of large, clickable glowing orbs that were marked with established mental traits—all of which were representative of thoughts, feelings, desires, and beliefs that Derek possessed. 

Unsurprisingly, there were all kinds of typical “straight boy” mental traits that served as clutter inside of Derek’s mindscape. There were dumb things blinking around—things like: “exercise is key”, “arrogant top”, and “I’m great at banging women”. And yet, despite how nauseating Derek’s preset traits were, **M.O.R.P.H** allowed for an easy workaround. The interface provided an ability to edit, delete, and add new mental traits that could be finalized just like any other changes made. 

“Ooh—okay, delete the trait that says, ‘I would never suck a dick’ and replace it with something a whole hell of a lot less tragic and way hotter.” Stiles snickered, watching as Scott’s fingers hesitated as they hovered above the tablet.

“Okay, but like what?” Scott asked. 

“I don’t know.” Stiles flailed his hands around in the open air, staring down to where the bedroom door was shut closed—worried that Derek was about to walk in. “Wait—wait, how about you make him want to get skullfucked...by us.”

Scott chuckled, nodding his head energetically at the creativity. He quickly deleted the previous mental trait and then added one that simply read: “skullfuck me”. And before Derek was finished with his after-shower routine of moisturizing, the two devious buddies managed to rewrite a good handful of preset traits, turning Derek into what they hoped would be an even hotter version of the already hot Derek Hale. 

Without warning, the bedroom door swung open and Derek stepped into the room. The only thing that he was wearing was a simple white towel that was wrapped tightly around his waist—so tightly, in fact, that both Scott and Stiles could see the huge imprint of Derek’s dick pressed into the towel’s fabric. 

Additionally, Derek’s ass looked great in the towel as he strode into the room, dripping with his usual swagger. It wasn’t that his ass didn’t always look amazing, but there was just something so much hotter about Derek’s backside when it was obvious that there was a minimal amount of fabric hiding it away from prying eyes. 

Scott nearly dropped the tablet out of his hands the instant that Derek opened the bedroom door. He fumbled the device and nearly dropped it down to the ground. Luckily, Stiles swooped in with his lucky hands and caught it before it could smack down against the carpeted floor. 

Derek, however, noticed the startled behavior despite not really having any idea what kind of secretive things were going on. Still—Derek was a naturally inquisitive man and wasn’t about to let his little brother and little brother’s dweebish friend get away with doing anything they weren’t supposed to be doing. 

“What the hell are the two of you doing in here that has you so fucking jumpy?” Derek asked tauntingly, walking closer over to where Scott and Stiles were sitting on the edge of the mattress. 

“Why are you all up in our business, big guy?” Stiles bit back, recoiling away from the lunge of Derek’s expectant hand. 

Derek tried to grab the tablet from Stiles’ hands, but the kid was far too agile and wild—recoiling back and twisting around. So he did what any normal authoritative figure would do in the situation...he grabbed onto Stiles’ ankles and pulled the boy clear off the mattress to land with a loud thud on the carpet, momentarily stunning Stiles right then and there. And then figuring that he had successfully secured what Scott and Stiles were trying to play keepaway with, Derek bent down and pulled the tablet out of Stiles’ hand.

“Stop it, you fucking dick!” Scott shouted, jumping up from the mattress. He leapt at Derek, grabbing at his torso and arms, reaching up to where Derek was childishly trying to keep the tablet out of reach. “Why are you always trying to be such an asshole?”

“It’s called, ‘keeping you two dipshits out of trouble since you’re clearly doing shit that you’re not supposed to be doing’.” Derek snickered, pushing backwards against where Scott was desperately pawing up towards his hold on the tablet. 

But as Derek stepped backwards in an attempt to distance himself from Scott, the heels of his feet caught onto where Stiles’ overnight bag was strewn about haphazardly on the floor—sending him stumbling and crashing down to the ground to land as a heap of disarmed muscle. The moment that Derek slammed down onto the floor, the tablet slipped free from his grasp—leaving it out and open for either Scott or Stiles to reclaim its secrets. But the tablet’s sudden freedom wasn’t the only thing that Derek’s harsh landing brought. 

Derek’s landed with an audible boorish grunt—which only made the fact that he was pissed off that much more noticable, despite the fact that he was technically the one who started the whole thing. Nonetheless, the wild flair of Derek’s body on the way down was more than enough movement to undo the tight wrap of the towel that had been wrapped around Derek’s waist—forcing the towel to flutter open in an incredibly lewd way.

Everybody in the room froze for a moment. Derek, laid out on the floor of Scott’s messy side of the room—rested back on his elbows in a momentary buffer as he tried to think through how he was going to properly punish Scott for pushing him down to the ground. Even though he was technically at fault, Derek was hellbent on getting his revenge. All the while, Scott and Stiles just stood there, mouths dropped open in shock, as they stared down to where Derek was laid out. 

Derek was completely naked—obviously, considering the fact that people didn’t step out of the shower fully clothed. But it wasn’t just that. Stiles couldn’t stop staring at Derek. It was his first time actually seeing the man spread out and the whole tablet situation hadn’t even really been put to use yet. Derek’s facial expression was mixed between shock and rage, and yet Derek’s face really wasn’t what Stiles found himself focusing on. Not one bit. 

Who the fuck would have known that Derek looked so good with such a messy boyish room as the background. Derek was laid out, thick hairy thighs spread open. His fat cock was flaccid, yet still sported a hefty looking girth and weight from where it was swung left over one of Derek’s bare thighs. And even though Derek had been out of the shower for a solid handful of minutes already, his tanned skin was still glowing. Thick beads of shower water dripped down the ridges of his naked muscle—down his biceps, his chest, and down the treasure trail of hair that ran down the man’s carved abs. 

“You fucking little dickfaced—” Derek started to growl, trying to ramp up enough momentum to pull himself up from where he was laid out on the floor. 

But before Derek could even fully get up from the floor, Scott bolted over to where the tablet had been accidentally thrown out of Derek’s grasp. He picked it up and then swung around—catching the sight of Derek’s fury boiling in the red of his alpha eyes. Quickly, Scott double-tapped down onto the tablet’s screen, which prompted a “WARNING” window to pop up over the page that both he and Stiles had been editing. It was just a standard warning to let Scott know that Derek would need to be “rebooted” in order to finalize the changes made to his mind and yes, yes—he needed them finalized like yesterday.

Scott smashed his finger down onto the bright green “FINALIZE” button, breathing out a sigh of genuine relief as he watched Derek momentarily freeze in place—half knelt down on the carpet, half lunged upwards towards Scott’s throat. Both Scott and Stiles heard Derek’s growl wind down into complete silence almost as if he had been a robot that had just run out of battery. But it was actually better than that. Derek wasn’t out of battery. He was gearing up for the reboot of his life.

“Uh—I’m not going to be the one to tell your parents that you broke Derek.” Stiles opted out, raising his hands in surrender.

Scott laughed. “He’s not broken. He’s rebooting. The changes we made will set into effect in a couple seconds.” He tossed the tablet back over to the bed, no longer needing its services for the time being. 

“Oh.” Stiles breathed, unable to pull his eyes away from Derek’s body. 

What a perfect sight it was to behold. Derek, frozen in the act of attempting to rip off his little brother’s head. Totally civil. But that was just the funny part of the whole situation. The _best_ part about Derek getting paused for a reboot was the fact that he was still completely naked, having not decided to pick up his towel. Not only that, but Scott hit the reboot button just as Derek was about to leap up to stand, leaving him frozen with all of his muscles flexed and his massive cock hanging there between his thighs. 

Derek unpaused. He jolted back to life with a vicious shiver that drove itself through his body—through his limbs, through his spine, and through his teeth. It was so powerful and unexpected that the shiver caused Derek to briefly falter and wobble where he remained half-knelt down on the ground, but he was quick enough to catch himself to avoid falling back for the second time. Though, he couldn’t quite remember falling down for the first time. 

There was a piece of Derek that felt confused. He scratched at the back of his head, staring up to where Scott and Stiles were both standing in front of him—towering over him. The two looked strangely elated about something, but it was lost to Derek as to what that was exactly. Derek didn’t even know what he was doing. He almost felt as though he had been in the middle of finishing a sentence, but no matter how hard he searched his brain for what he had been trying to say, it was safe to say that his train of thought had gone.

And then Derek’s nose caught wind of an incredibly strong scent—arousal, wafting off of his little brother and his little brother’s obnoxiously loud best friend. Derek felt his body flutter. His skin tingled. He couldn’t fight how fucking horny he was starting to feel. He glanced down and looked down to where he was completely naked, still shiny with shower water, but didn’t venture much further into questioning why he was naked and on his knees. 

The only prominent thing that flashed through this mind were thoughts—dirty, lustful thoughts. There were thoughts about guys, all different kinds, and cock—of course. Derek couldn’t stop his mind from racing around the thought of dick, of sucking dick, slobbing over fat cockheads and gagging on girth, repeatedly and tirelessly, bursting with joy the moment a nice cock blew its load down his throat. The thoughts felt strange at first, but then felt normal within a millisecond—ripping away the chance to think critically about anything. 

Derek looked up from where he had been analyzing his own naked body, up to where Scott and Stiles’ fresh faces were beaming down at him with hopeful delight. Derek just looked up at them with a half-cocked smile hung loosely on his mouth. He looked rather dopily, like he was strung out on some kind of new high. But of course, Scott and Stiles both knew what that was. It was the brand new look of a hunk ready to take a couple cocks down his throat. 

“What—” Derek gulped, bringing one of his hands down to palm at his growing erection. It felt so nice to not be bound by clothes. He was lucky that he had just hopped out of the shower. “—what was I saying?”

It was an honest question, but neither Stiles nor Scott were planning to play by the rules of honesty. There would be absolutely nothing sexy to come from recounting how Derek was about to pummel Scott for accidentally knocking him down to the ground. Plus—it was just too perfect of an opportunity to take with Derek already on his knees, naked, and thickening up with obvious anticipation of what he was now newly programmed to do. 

“You were—uh—” Scott started, unsure as to what to say. He was far too distracted by how fucking hot Derek looked down on his knees with a dopey grin on his face—a well respectful upgrade from the terrible scowl he normally wore. 

“—you were about to suck our cocks.” Stiles inserted boldy, catching Scott’s attention. The two traded gleeful stares at one another before turning back to look down at Derek’s reaction. 

“Seriously?” Derek questioned, caught on his natural instinct to question everything. That would need to be changed eventually. 

“Uh, yeah.” Stiles scoffed, bringing his hands down to the buckle of his jeans. “You were just talking about how fucking gifted you were at sucking dick—how you were the best cocksucker in the city—and how you’d prove it to us.”

“We’re doubtful.” Scott crossed his arms, buffing up his chest—though he could barely fight back a snicker of laughter.

“Fuck you—I _can_ prove it.” Derek said. His eyebrows furrowed intensely as he reached out with both of his hands and grabbed onto the waistband of Scott’s sweatpants, pulling him slightly forward. 

“Yeah, that’s what you say, but that pretty little mouth of yours _still_ doesn’t have a cock stuffed into it.” Stiles gave a fake pout, rolling his eyes playfully as he analyzed how dejected and almost _sad_ Derek looked to be doubted in his newfound cocksucking talents. 

Stiles unbuckled his pants and tugged them down, along with his boxers, just enough so that his hard cock could spill out in Derek’s direction. And then with his other hand, he reached out and breezed his long fingers through Derek’s damp hair—almost soothingly, hoping to usher in some added enthusiasm and confidence into Derek’s already eager actions. 

Derek hooked his fingers into the waistband of Scott’s sweatpants and boxers and then tugged them down until they were caught at the mid-thigh of Scott’s hairy legs. Derek was practically jumping out of his own skin, vibrating with excitement. The potent beauty of Scott and Stiles’ collective arousal swirled around Derek’s head and threw him into a delirious tizzy—but it felt so good. 

The last time that Derek had been so excited was way back during the holidays when his girlfriend got tickets to his favorite rock band. And as for the last time that he ever sucked a cock...Derek couldn’t remember. His mind did nothing but draw a blank. And yet, his mind was constantly harping on the desire to get suck dick, swallow loads, and get fucked in his tight ass. The desire felt as familiar as anything, as far as he could tell. 

Scott’s fat cock swung up and nearly knocked itself against Derek’s stubbled jaw the moment that his sweatpants and boxers were pulled down. He was already hard and dripping with precum, all thanks to the heat of the situation. His big bro’s mouth was not more than a couple solid inches away from his cock and he could literally feel Derek’s anticipatory exhales of breath blow against the heat of his throbbing dick. 

“Nice dick, dude.” Stiles complimented heartily, gawking over to where Scott’s cock wobbled in suspended animation—slightly darker than the rest of his body, cut, nice and thick, and just slightly curved like his jawline. It would look great shoved into Derek’s mouth. 

“Thanks.” Scott flashed a smile over to Stiles and then the two traded a quick high-five before trading their attention back to where Derek was nearly drooling. 

“Are you just going to stare at it—” Stiles started, reached forward to cradle the back of Derek’s neck. He pulled gently, bringing Derek’s mouth closer to where Scott already about to bust—but at least if he did, Derek’s mouth would be ready for the paintjob. “—or are you going to choke yourself on Scotty’s dick?”

Derek lapped at his lips and then absentmindedly nodded in response to Stiles’ posed question. It really wasn’t Derek’s fault, though. He was far too caught up in Scott’s cock to give any genuine thought to what the freckled-faced boy was actually saying. Plus, it was the first time that Derek had ever seen Scott’s dick—fully hard, throbbing, and begging to get plunged down some helpless joke’s throat.

It wasn’t as though Derek hadn’t ever caught Scotty desperately trying to hide away an awkwardly-time boner. Derek had. And he had made it a clear mission of his to mercesily tease Scott about them when it happened. Plus, as a werewolf, Derek had definitely caught the unintentional whiff of Scott’s arosual, his precum, and a few blown loads one too many times—all thanks to having to share a bedroom. And yet, Derek remembered trying his best to get those scents out of his nose. That was then. And now, Derek really couldn’t get enough of how hot it made his own body feel. 

Derek wrapped his fingers around Scott’s girth, immediately feeling the throbbing heat bleed into the skin of his palm. He gave Scott’s shaft a firm squeeze and a couple tentative strokes, watching as a heavy bead of precum formed at the tip of Scott’s dick and then oozed down in a streamlined pour to soak into the carpeted floor. Derek’s nose took a hit of the scent and then all was lost. 

Suddenly, Derek surged forward and wrapped his tight lips around Scott’s cock. The taste of precum blew across his tastebuds and rattled around in the back of his throat, making his eyes water with what he could only describe as the best damn feeling on the planet. It was like a fucking drug—that was all Derek could really say, or think. The taste sent fireworks to flash behind his eyelids, made his head quake with pulses, and made his body tighten and shiver. 

Derek’s pace made him seem _starved_ for cock—which he was—thanks to the tablet. He bobbed his head around, taking Scott completely down to the root with loud and sloppy gags and gurgles. But he took it with ease, humming out satisfaction and pleasure which ended up vibrated up through Scott’s cock and through his body. And it didn’t even seem as though Derek needed to pull away to take in clean breath. 

Scott didn’t have to do anything but stand there and watch while Derek swallowed down every inch of his thick cock. The rapid and enthusiastic movement of Derek’s mouthwork knocked around Scott’s stance just a bit, making him wobble around and occasionally reach over to catch a grip onto one of Stiles’ shoulders for better positioning. At the same time, Scott melted into the rhythm of Derek’s mouth and the sway that his body took on as Derek drank his length down. His heart felt like it was ready to beat out of his chest, even though things had just begun. 

“Why did you have to be born fucking straight— _fucking shit_ —yeah, keep doing that with your tongue.” Scott groaned, beaming down into the sparkle of Derek’s eyes. His face was so sharp and marked with concentration, yet it glowed with a kind of passion and energy that Scott rarely saw displayed on Derek’s hard face when he wasn’t MORPHED. “ _Shit_ —I ask you the same thing every time we do this and it’s not like you remember.”

Derek pulled his mouth off of Scott’s cock with a messy pop, sniffling slightly. He blinked away the tears that had started to bead up at the corner of his eyes and then wiped his mouth against his forearm, clearing his reddened lips of all the precum and saliva that had slicked up his mouth. And then he looked up to Scott, into the simmer of the boy’s brown eyes, and grabbed hold of Scott’s slick cock—stroking the girth in the palm of his hand as he caught new breath. 

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Derek asked, voice hoarse with wear. “Who told you that I was straight?”

Scott and Stiles traded another look, amused by the whole thing. But the best part was that Derek wasn’t even actually that concerned about anything that anybody was saying. He sounded kind of mad about it, but that was just his voice—so deep and gruff and clean-cut, he could sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and still sound like he was about to commit murder. But shit—that voice sounded so fucking hot when it moaned and hummed around Scotty’s dick. 

“ _Jeez—Derek_. Ease up on the handjob—dude, you’re gonna make me cum—stop.” Scott grunted, shifting around uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. He squirmed, pushing back against the broadness of Derek’s naked shoulders, unable to really take his eyes off where his massive rod was gripped tightly in Derek’s grasp. 

“Yeah, how about you try me on for size, big guy.” Stiles said cockily, reaching over to cup the back of Derek’s neck. He pulled Derek closer to him and his own leaking cock, and away from where Scott was clearly trying to keep his own orgasm from washing over him. “Let Scotty ease back on the gas pedal for a while.”

Derek immediately let his grip fall away from where he had been stroking Scott’s dick in his grasp. He shifted his body just enough to that Stiles was now centered in front of him as his main point of interest. And then without even bothering to wait for Stiles to order him around and tell him what to do next, Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ shaft with both of his hands, thumbing over the top of the human’s leaking slit. He practically felt Stiles’ body shake under his grasp. 

“I saw what you gave Scotty.” Stiles chuckled, playfully thrusting his cock into where it was being held in Derek’s capable grasp. “So—whatcha gonna give me, Der?”

Derek leaned down and took a swipe with his tongue underneath Stiles’ heavy balls, up the boy’s solid length, and right to the leaking head of his dick. He swirled his tongue around where Stiles’ precum was dripping down the length of his dick in shiny rivulets, groaning out at the taste. Stiles, however, nearly gasped out in shock, despite the fact that he was the one egging Derek on to get on with it. But still—the fact that it was actually fucking happening was crazy. Scotty’s brother—sucking him off. Derek’s mouth on his dick. It was real.

“Ah _fuck yeah_ , Derek.” Stiles cooed deeply, combing his fingers though Derek’s damp hair and slightly tugging at it. 

Derek continued to play around with Stiles’ throbbing cock. He teased the slit with the tip of his tongue and listened to the beautiful sound of Stiles’ breathing slightly hitch every time that he did it. But eventually, Stiles got tired of the tiny kitten licks and demanded something more satisfying. Which was fine—Derek was up for it. He was up for anything. And it seemed as though Stiles and Scott were going to be happy to give him whatever he wanted. 

Stiles took his cock into the grip of his own hand, letting the weight of his own meat hang enticingly out from where his fingers were wrapped around himself. And then he bat his cock down onto Derek’s chin and onto his lips—dragging his leaking cockhead across Derek’s already messy lips, letting his precum smear itself across where Derek had probably already scrubbed and washed and moisturized in his shower without knowing what he was going to end up getting into upon stepping in the bedroom. 

And then he pressed forward into the slight gape of Derek’s mouth, past his flushed lips, and into the heat of his wicked mouth. Stiles’ knees buckled at the sensation and the sight. He watched as the thickness of his cock plunged forward into Derek’s throat, down and down until Derek’s sharp nose was pressed firmly into Stiles’ groin. He kept it there for a moment, letting the feeling completely register itself inside of his brain, and then withdrew his length—feeling Derek’s throat work around its intrusion. 

Stiles pulled his length completely out of Derek’s mouth—fist wrapped around the base of his dick—and then teasingly swung it around just enough so that some spent saliva and precum jet off to land messily elsewhere. And then without giving Derek proper time to prepare, Stiles grabbed hold of either sides of Derek’s head and thrust forward, spearing his cock back into Derek’s mouth and down his throat. 

Derek let out an involuntary sputter the moment that Stiles’ fat cock was forced down his throat for a second time, but his body immediately adjusted like it was programmed to do. His eyes stung with tears and blurred vision kicked up for just a second until he blinked away the strain, managing to catch a glimpse up to where Stiles and Scott were both looking incredibly happy with themselves. But it brought Derek so much joy to know that he was pleasing the two. 

Stiles’ hips moved with a calculated and precise rhythm—rounding back to slightly withdraw only to immediately bolt right back forward to strike against the back of Derek’s throat. But each and every sloppy, cut off gag was enough fuel to push Stiles on. There was a piece of him that felt as though maybe he should take things down a peg and consider how much stress he was driving into Derek’s body...but Derek was a werewolf with amazing stamina and he was a newly programed cockslut. He liked it. 

“Oh, yeah— _fuck yeah_. Choke on it, Derek.” Stiles grit. A nearly-delirious sounded chuckle sparked at the back of his throat, but he cleared it up with a casual cough as he caught his breath. 

“That’s so fucking hot.” Scott breathed, utterly hooked on the sight of Stiles’ massive rod plunging in and out of Derek’s mouth. The sound of Stiles’ balls slapping against Derek’s stubble chin echoed through his ears.

Stiles kept at his pace until Derek’s eyes started to glaze over and roll back into his head for brief moments at a time, only to jolt back to alertness when Stiles thrust in particularly hard. It truly looked as though Derek was getting fucked over so hard that even his own body didn’t even know how to respond to the repeated stimulation. And Stiles knew that if it felt anywhere as good as it felt to fuck a cock down a willing throat, Derek was on cloud nine. 

“ _Holy fuck he’s good at this._ ” Stiles exhaled, pulling his cock out from where it had been stuffed down Derek’s throat. He stepped back and took a moment to catch his breath, wiping his forearm across his built-up forehead sweat. “Come on, Scotty—you’re back up to bat.”

Stiles tapped Scott on the shoulder and then stepped out of the way so that Scott could take his proper place in front of where Derek was already knelt down. At the same time, Stiles walked around Derek’s kneeling form and took position directly behind Derek’s body—making it so that the hunky werewolf slut was sandwiched in-between two guys and two big cocks to swallow. 

And then, before Derek could even begin to question the sudden switch of positioning, Stiles reached around to the front of Derek’s face with both of his hands. He gripped a couple of his fingers into the corners of either side of Derek’s lips, stretching open the werewolf’s mouth so that it was made to be kept open—ready for Scott to slip his dick in whenever he wanted. 

Scott grabbed onto the base of his meaty cock. Derek looked so destroyed already and yet his mouth was the only thing getting a workout. His hair looked completely wild thanks to all of the tugging and increasing dampness from the same sweat that gleamed across Derek’s muscled physique. Scott could wait to get him bent over on the bed, but he knew that Derek’s throat could take more. 

“Hey, batta batta—” Stiles sang jokingly, swaying Derek’s head side-to-side whilst looking up to Scott’s dopey-faced determination. “—big bro’s waiting _so_ patiently for you to hurry up and _swing_.”

Scott thrust forward almost immediately. He speared his cock down Derek’s throat and then kicked up a punishing rhythm. Instantaneously, the bedroom quaked with all of the lewd sounds that were properly skullfucked out of Derek’s receptive form. Moans mixed with the strained, breathless gasps and the sloppy gurgles that were involuntarily ripped out of Derek’s throat each and every time Scott’s hips happened to punch forward just a bit too hard. 

All the while, Stiles remained stationary—standing directly behind where Derek was knelt down, holding open Derek’s mouth so that Scott could get a good thrust game going. It worked wonderfully. Derek’s groans grew louder and Stiles was sure that he could hear a bit of Derek’s wolfhood simmer with a desperate growl underneath the sound of his own moans. Still, Scott kept his rhythm going. 

“Like that?” Scott cooed breathlessly, watching the way that his slobbered-up fat cock slip and slide into Derek’s throat. “Tell me you like it, Der.”

As Scott pulled his cock free from Derek’s mouth, Derek took a breathful of air and swallowed down the ache of his own jaw. He nodded enthusiastically, looking up into Scott’s brown eyes from underneath his lashes. “Fuck, I _love_ it, Scott.” 

“Yeah?” Scott comforted, thumbing down to the corner of Derek’s wet lips. He pressed the tip of his cock down onto Derek’s bottom lip, watching as the man’s tongue instinctively darted out for a taste. “Damn—so hungry for it.”

Derek nodded again, but he didn’t say anything. He surged forward with an attempt to reclaim a throatful of his younger bro’s dick, but Scott pulled away with a breathless laugh. And with Derek so clearly ready for way more than what Scott had to offer by his lonesome, Scott motioned over for Stiles to step around to the front of Derek’s submissive form. 

Stiles and Scott stood together. Their shoulders bumped up against each other as their stance slightly swayed with the passing seconds. All the while, the meat of their slicked up cocks cast down lewd shadows onto Derek’s tanned skin. But the best part was that neither of them had to do nor say anything to get the next step of their plan across to Derek. Derek just _knew_ what he was supposed to do, like the good slut he now was. 

Derek took either of the two cocks before him into the palms of his hands, letting his fingers wrap firmly across the girths. He gave Stiles and Scott a few solid jerks as he traded his glances between the two of them—seemingly unsure as to where he wanted to start. But then without warning, he wrapped his lips around the leaking head of Stiles’ hard cock for a couple seconds, pulling off with a loud and sloppy pop. 

And then just before Stiles was about to complain about Derek being way too quick with the mouthwork, he watched as Derek switched over to Scott’s dick— plunging it down his throat for a few seconds to do the same thing that he had just done to Stiles’. Derek then did it again, popped off Scott and switched back over to Stiles. And then back to Scott. It was a rhythm—a game Derek’s clouded little brain had cooked up in an effort to get the best of both cocks. 

Stiles and Scott let it all play out, melting into Derek’s game of back-and-forth. Derek seemed legitimately entertained and more than enthused about it. There was no way in Hell that he was going to stop anytime soon, especially not when Stiles and Scott permitted him to keep it going. Plus, it all felt so fucking good. Stiles and Scott were too lazy and spaced out to switch up the positioning. 

After about ten minutes of all of the switching, sucking, and slobbering, Derek’s breathing became wheezed. It became clear that his werewolf stamina was beginning to wear down with all of the exertion. Not only that, but Scott and Stiles were drawing nearer and nearer to their orgasms. Their bodies were shivering and quaking each time that Derek’s mouth found itself back onto their individual cocks. 

“Ooh fuck fuck FUCK—!” Stiles groaned loudly, suddenly reaching forward to grab at the sweaty matted mess of Derek’s hair. He pulled Derek’s face into his cock, forcing his girth down Derek’s throat, and kept it there as his body tightened and froze with the unmistakable chill of an orgasm. 

Scott felt as his eyes flare hot with beta yellow. His own shift almost slipped out of his control, all thanks to how fucking hot the sight before him actually was. He breathed in the smell of Stiles’ lust and release as it poured down Derek’s throat. Scott watched Stiles’ hips involuntarily jolt with stunted thrusts and he watched the way that Derek’s Adam’s Apple bobbed around with each deep gulp of Stiles’ hot cum as he hungrily swallowed it down. 

Stiles’ body gave a vicious shake as he pulled his cock out of Derek’s mouth, still not entirely finished blowing his load. A spray of a few rogue spurts of cum splashed across Derek’s face, searing the tanned and sweaty skin. But Derek just kept his mouth open and his tongue stuck out into the open as he desperately tried to catch all that Stiles was continuing to pump out. 

One particularly whimperish groan from Derek sent shockwaves through Scott’s body. He was on the edge— teetering there as he watched his best friend paint his big bro’s stubbled face. And then it was all over for Scott, just like it had been for Stiles not more than a few moments prior. Scott’s body tightened, his muscles flexed, his toes curled, and his breath seemed to catch in his throat. 

Scott’s fat cock throbbed and twitched as he held it tightly in the grasp of his hands like it was a hose, directing the pulsated shots of his load as they spewed out to blast Derek in the face. It only added to the mess that was already there—thanks to the tailend of Stiles’ orgasm—but Derek remained just as eager to take another load on his face, this time being one that belonged to his scrappy little bro. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Stiles asked breathlessly, watching Scott’s load shoot out with heavy jets. He pat Scott on the back and then clasped one of his hands down onto Scott’s shoulder, squeezing the wolf’s bicep in a comforting kind of way. “Fucking give it to him, Scotty— _paint that slut_.”

By the time Scott’s balls were sufficiently drained, Derek looked like a drowned rat. The majority of his face was covered in a sticky, oozing pearlescent glaze. It matted down his hair and one of his eyelashes. It dripped from the tip of his sharp nose and oozed down his chin, falling down in heavy drops to splat against his bare chest. And even though there wasn’t anything else splashing out to land onto his face, Derek was still knelt down with his mouth open and tongue stuck out—ready for more, like he was locked in place. 

Scott took a moment to let himself come down from the intense high that came from blowing his load and then grabbed hold of the tablet from where it had been resting on his bed. He scrolled through some of the settings and found himself inside of Derek’s “TASK MANAGER”, clicking onto the button that allowed the user to denote a new “TASK”. And like somebody who had already done it many, many times before, Scott typed out a new task: “take shower, clean up”, before hitting ENTER. 

Derek immediately sprang up from where he had been knelt down, smacking his lips together before walking out of the bedroom and back into the hallway bathroom. Derek had a glazed over look in his eyes, but they were still bright with a spark of energy that both Scott and Stiles knew they could use to their advantage whenever they wanted. And if they were both being honest, they wanted to use it again and again, for as long as they could. Not like the tablet had an expiration date. 

“We’ll let him wash up—” Scott noted, fingering back down to the tablet.

“We’re really gonna make him forget so soon?” Stiles groaned playfully, nudging his shoulder against Scott’s. “It should honestly be a fucking crime to switch Derek back to being a sad straight man.”

But then Stiles caught sight of the tablet’s face and realized that Scott wasn’t fiddling around with Derek’s **M.O.R.P.H** settings anymore. Instead, he was swiping through Stiles’ page— looking at a list of sliders on a page that was titled: “INTERNAL LEVELS”. And before Stiles could even get a question out of his throat, Scott took a slider from a 0% to 75%—that slider being one dedicated to “CUM RESERVE”. 

Stiles felt a brief tickle blow up the bones of his legs, settling momentarily at his crotch. And then he felt his balls begin to ache— a painless, good kind of ache. His cock gave an involuntary twitch and his dick was back to full hardness. Weirdly enough, his body felt as though he hadn’t orgasmed not even once yet, despite that being a complete lie. He had just busted down Derek’s throat. 

“Wait—what?” Stiles asked, looking back over to where Scott was operating on the tablet. And to his surprise, he found that Scott was now scrolling through his _own_ “INTERNAL LEVELS”, doing the same thing to himself that he had just done to Stiles. 

“There.” Scott settled. “We’re refreshed.”

“It can refill our balls, _too_ ?!” Stiles chuckled. “Holy fuck—we really _could_ do this all day.”

Scott snorted. “Yeah, and when Derek’s done with his second shower, we can go again.”

“ _Hells fucking yes._ ” Stiles cheered, pumping his fist enthusiastically. “But wait—let’s take that fat fucking ass for a spin this time—let’s DP the dude, have him sit in our laps and ride our cocks, flood those guts full…let’s fuck him _fucking senseless_.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Scott’s lips as he flipped through some of the pages on the tablet, finally getting to the one that he needed. He held up the tablet to show it to Stiles, letting the screen talk for itself. It was the **M.O.R.P.H** interface page for Derek’s BODY, full of different sliders, levels, and 3D models so that they could change just about anything they wanted about Derek’s physical form. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate kudos, comments, and suggestions! <3


	3. Playback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles used the tablet to change Derek's body before they play around with him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah-ha! We've reached the end of this story! This is the final chapter for the "Big Brother" M.O.R.P.H story, although I fully intend to create more fanfics utilizing this whole "M.O.R.P.H" master-tech tablet idea. Those fics will exist in a different universe though. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the final chapter. I was surprised with myself for being able to finish this in a reasonable time-frame. I kinda of just got struck with inspiration and started writing. And it has a few more thousand words that I had initially planned. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

With Derek innocently taking a second shower across the hall, ridding his beautiful body of everything it had endured not more than a few moments prior, Stiles and Scott were spending their time clicking through  **M.O.R.P.H’s** interface, figuring out what else they could do to make Derek a better slut. And to nobody’s surprise,  **M.O.R.P.H** allowed for a lot of creative freedom in almost every conceivable way possible.

The  **BODY** tab on the tablet brought up a 3D hologram of a generic male body. It was nothing more than a grid-patterned man, which spun around on the screen in a very slow, pre-set animation. There was nothing inherently special about the hologram— it didn’t have any particular features to show that it was meant to represent Derek Hale, but that was fine, because the main purpose of it being so...bland, was to show that Derek was a blank slate.

On the right-hand side of the glowing grid hologram were tons and tons of new fashioned sliders— all of which were marked as Derek’s “preset” body attributes. But as with anything else the tablet’s technology provided, there wasn’t anything that both Scott and Stiles wouldn’t be able to change about Derek’s body. If they wanted him taller, they could do that. If they wanted to lighten his hair or eyes, it could also be done. But those were just some of the innocent changeable features. 

“Dominance….Submissiveness….Tit Plumpness….,” Stiles casually read through some of the more appealing preset slider options. “—ooh, we’ll have to do something with those.”

There were so many different options to toy around with. Truly, it was a buffet of sin. And the best part was that there wasn’t any limit as to how many different things about Derek’s body that could be changed around. Much like all of the other available tabs that the tablet’s interface had to offer, Derek was putty in the hands of his little brother and his little bro’s devious best friend. 

As Scott and Stiles flipped through the available pages of  **BODY** sliders, Stiles called out when he saw something that he thought should be modified. The first thing that they did was take Derek’s initial “dominance” levels from where the slider was placed at a LEVEL EIGHT and slid it down to an absolute ZERO. Derek didn’t need to be dominant—not with how Scott and Stiles planned to use him. 

Similarly, they adjusted Derek’s “submissiveness” levels from the low preset level of TWO—maxing it out completely with a LEVEL TEN. That was more the speed Derek needed to be at. And considering how good and obedient he had previously been whilst getting his pretty mouth fucked, Stiles and Scott could only imagine how much more slutty Derek would be with a newly modified level of submissiveness. 

“Ooh, this one’s my favorite. I do it every time I’m in the mood.” Scott called out, smirking over to where Stiles remained at his side—intently looking down to the tablet’s sliders. 

Scott thumbed over to the slider option that read: “Hole Slick”, and double-clicked onto the attribute. Immediately, a tiny informational window popped up onto the screen, explaining what the attribute meant and what moving around the sliders would mean in regards to Derek’s body. And seeing as how Stiles was new to the whole thing, it gave him the ability to learn a little bit about how good  **M.O.R.P.H** really was. 

“Hole Slickness—manipulates the body of the selected male physique, allowing for natural lubrication production.” Stiles read aloud in a studious, monotonous voice, thumbing dramatically at his chin. “ _ So _ —wait what?”

“He’ll get wet for us.” Scott snorted, turning to meet the otherwise awestruck expression on Stiles’ face. “We won’t even need to use lube.”

Stiles let out a loud laugh, grabbing the tablet out of Scott’s hand. “ _ Holy _ —I don’t even know why I’m fucking surprised. This tablet is a damn godsend. It just replenished our balls,  _ of course _ it can make Derek get nice and wet for taking a couple cocks up his fat ass.”

Without hesitation and without any further word from Scott, Stiles clicked out of the informational window and modified Derek’s “Hole Slickness” levels— taking him from a starter position of LEVEL ZERO to TEN. Stiles’ own hard cock twitched with excitement as he handed the tablet back over to Scott to continue making the changes he wanted to do.

After a few more minutes and a handful of updated sliders, Scott shifted focus onto the 3D hologram model that spun around on the tablet’s screen. He double-clicked onto the male form and watched as the hologram blinked a couple times, before opening up in a whole different window of its own. From there, Scott began to click onto different body parts. 

Scott first clicked onto the hologram’s chest and used his index and thumb fingers to spread the holographic chest wider— signifying the desire to plump up Derek’s already muscular chest. Next, he spread the hologram’s thighs to be a tad bit thicker, followed by back muscle manipulation, bicep increase, ab tightening, and finally—a slightly bigger backside for Derek was in order. 

Derek’s ass was already perfect. It was huge, barely fit into the jeans that he wore on the daily. But Scott knew the power that the tablet held and there was no reason not to give Derek a fatter ass. After all, Derek, himself, wouldn’t care to notice. Once all of the new changes were finalized, Derek would just think as if his body was as it always was. But for Scott and Stiles, they’d have a grander time squeezing and slapping and fucking hard into Derek’s fatter ass, watching it ripple with waves from their thrusts. 

“Looks—about right, I think.” Scott muttered, glancing through the sliders’ changes before handing the tablet over to Stiles. “Care to do the final honors?”

Stiles smirked and swiped the tablet out of Scott’s hands again, this time clicking onto the FINALIZE CHANGES button that was situated as a pop-up on the tablet’s screen. There was a brief vibration from the tablet and then the screen refreshed, showing all of the new changes that had been made to Derek’s body. The new muscle mass, the submissiveness, the hole slickness, everything. 

The familiar sound of the bathroom shower shutting off caught both Stiles and Scott’s attention. Round two had officially begun. It wouldn’t take long for Derek to proudly find his way back to the bedroom, still under the effects of the tablet’s power, not even bothering with a towel wrapped around his waist this time. Instead, he’d step into the room with a bunch of new changes reprogrammed into his head and body. 

When Derek stepped back into the bedroom, Scott and Stiles couldn’t help but smile as their eyes raked across every inch of Derek’s wet, naked skin. The physical changes that the two had made with the 3D hologram function were incredibly obvious, but not obscenely off-putting. He looked the same, all except for a few tweaks here-and-there to make him even more perfect. 

Derek’s already toned abs were even more toned, tighter, and leaner. Stiles thought that if he were to run his hands across the insane ridges of muscle, he’d end up cutting himself. Not only that, but Derek’s chest was different—bigger, beefier, juicier. His tits wobbled with the casual gait of his steps as Derek came to stand in the middle of the bedroom. The same could be said for Derek’s ass, which was even thicker and begged even harder to be bred deep. 

Stiles let out an exhaled whistle, impressed with the tablet’s work. He circled where Derek was standing in the middle of the room, dripping wet with shower water, waiting expectantly to be told what he was supposed to do. That was the newly reprogrammed submissiveness talking. And neither Stiles and Scott could hold back their excitement at how much more malleable Derek had become with the click of a few buttons. 

“Somebody’s gonna get fucked brainless.” Stiles chimed in a sing-song type of voice. He took his place behind Derek’s solid form, craning his face closer inward so that he could nibble at Derek’s earlobe. He wrapped his arms around Derek’s body, bringing his hands up Derek’s frontside to cup at Derek’s beefier tits. 

“ _ Stiles! _ ” Derek shouted out in a breathless pant.

“Ooh, I think your big bro likes it.” Stiles laughed, squeezing and rubbing at Derek’s oversensitive nipples, staring over Derek’s shoulder to where Scott was standing with his big dick in his own hand. “Why don’t you tell Scotty what it is that you like, hmm?”

Derek gulped. “Touching—the touching, squeezing…”

“ _ Mmmhhmhelikesitwhen  _ I play with him right  _ here _ .” Stiles mumbled, almost unintelligible, as he nibbled playfully at Derek’s ear— feeling Derek’s body shiver under his touch. 

Scott snickered, swooping forward— pressing his own naked body up against Derek’s. Their individual hardened cocks speared against one another, mixing their body heat. Derek’s eyes seemed to go just as glossy and unfocused as they had previously. And Scott liked the look of it. He liked knowing how deep Derek was lost under the spell of the tablet. 

“And he likes it when I touch him  _ here _ .” Scott added seductively, reaching down to wrap his fingers around Derek’s fat cock. He gave him a couple solid tugs and then began to stroke Derek’s cock slowly, lazily even, feeling Derek’s hot precum ooze against his knuckles. 

“Do you?” Stiles rasped into Derek’s ear. “Do you like when Scotty touches you there?”

“Y—yes.”

“Though so.” Stiles said smugly. “But what about _ here _ ?”

Stiles quickly dove two of his fingers into Derek’s wet hole, pressing past the tightness, pushing into the heat. Derek groaned out loudly. His eyes flickered alpha red. His knees buckled from the sensation and he nearly fell down to the ground, barely able to keep himself standing tall by himself. Luckily, Scott was there to help him. 

Scott clicked his tongue and cooed softly, letting go of where he was stroking Derek’s dick. He brought both of his hands up, scooping them underneath Derek’s armpits, using his strength to keep Derek from falling down to his knees. The man’s legs were jelly and all from a little bit of prostate stimulation. 

“No, no—we already had you on your knees, Der.” Scott said soothingly, staring deep into Derek’s unfocused, flared eyes. “Stand up.”

“I think I struck a nerve.” Stiles laughed, trading snickered coughs of breath with Scott. Stiles turned his attention back onto Derek. “What’s a matter, Derek? Never been touched back here, hmm? I didn’t think so.  _ Girls  _ don’t play around back here. But we do.”

Stiles’ fingers were long and slender. He had fingered himself from time-to-time and knew damn well that he was more than capable of bringing a man down to their knees, sobbing out pleas of mercy from the pleasure he could bring with just a couple of his fingers. So it was no surprise that Derek quickly became a quivering, antsy mess within a few minutes of getting fingerfucked.

Stiles drove both his index and middle finger into Derek’s tightness, starting off with a simple—yet punishing rhythm. But he quickly picked up the pace, much to Derek’s clear-as-day excitement. Stiles rapidly fucked his fingers into Derek’s wetness, harder and harder, pushing as deep as he could, curling his fingers every now and then. And when he did, Derek’s knees buckled. Prostate stimulation was the man’s “kill switch”. 

Scott was busy kissing and sucking at Derek’s sensitive nipples, biting softly at their hardness and pulling at the skin just enough until Derek wailed out a pleasured howl. Meanwhile, Stiles inserted a third finger into Derek, fingerfucking him even harder than before, curling his fingers with every insertion, fingering around to stab into Derek’s magic button. And sure enough, he found it rather easily. 

“Ah—ah, fuck!” Derek screamed. 

Derek came undone, hard and fast. His body seized and his already tight hole clenched down ever harder around Stiles’ slender digits. His fat cock spurted quickly against where it was pressed tightly against Scott’s hot body, painting the boy’s brown skin with sharp cuts of searing white. And as it oozed down Scott’s abdomen, Stiles refused to lighten up on the prostate massaging. 

“Gotcha.” Stiles snorted. 

“Fuck—I’m the one that’s gonna need a fucking shower.” Scott said, pulling away from where he had been sucking and biting at Derek’s plump tits. His own lean abs were oozing with Derek’s load, dripping down to the carpet.

Stiles withdrew his fingers from Derek’s hole, drinking in the noticeable sound of a wet squelch. The “Hole Slick” slider really did work. Whoever created the tablet and the software was some sort of sick genius—but Stiles wanted to blow them for giving him the chance to play around with Scott’s hot brother. 

“He came so hard—and I was only up to three fingers.” Stiles noted. “I don’t even know whether or not to chalk up that orgasm to him rarely getting fingered, or because we maxed out his Prostate Sensitivity.”

Scott shrugged, letting Derek toppling down to the ground. “I don’t know. Both, maybe.”

Stiles stepped over Derek’s collapsed body, grabbing onto Scott’s shoulders with a wide, excited grin spread across his face. “Imagine how fucking hard he’s gonna blow when he rides our cocks.”

“I know how hard he blows when he rides my cock.” Scott admitted proudly. “But I wonder what’ll happen when he takes both of us.”

“Let’s save that for the finale.” Stiles said, patting Scott on the arm as he walked over to Scott’s bed. He took a seat, but then immediately popped back up. “No—wait, let’s fuck him in  _ his _ bed.”

“Fuck yeah.” Scott cheered. He reached down and picked Derek up by the arms, getting the great lug of muscle to stand again on his own two feet, despite still reeling from a brutal orgasm. “That way, he’ll get to smell everything we did when he finally conks out for the night.”

“How’s that sound, Der?” Stiles asked cockily, walking over to where both Scott and Derek were standing at the edge of Derek’s bed. 

Derek’s side of the shared bedroom was considerably neater than the tornado devastation that was Scott’s side. Nothing was out of its proper place. There were no scattered clothes on the ground. No sports equipment. No crumbled papers. Even the sheets and pillows on Derek’s bed were dressed up and unblemished by wrinkles. To the total stranger, one would probably think that Derek was some sort of ex-military dude. 

Stiles shoved hard against Derek’s broad chest, forcing the man to topple backwards onto the cushion of his bed. Derek’s legs almost instinctively spread open—thick, hairy thighs on lewd display. To nobody’s surprise, Derek’s fat cock was also hard again, dripping with precum. His body had already been torn down to the studs with an orgasm and yet there he was, ready for more. 

Stiles’ eagerness fueled him. He immediately tried to sweep his way in-between Derek’s spread thighs, cock in hand, ready to thrust hard into Derek’s tight, virginal heat. But Scott grabbed onto the slender human’s waist and tossed him back out of the way—stopping him dead in his tracks, much to Stiles’ displeasure. 

“Yo, what the fuck?” Stiles barked, rubbing where Scott’s warm hands had squeezed against his waist. “You gonna let me fuck our toy or not?”

Scott dropped down to his knees in-between Derek’s spread thighs. He hooked his hands underneath the bend of Derek’s knees and spread the man’s thighs and legs even more than they already were— lifting them up into the air with ease, thanks to his werewolf strength. Derek’s legs were thick and heavy, but not heavy enough to stop Scott from getting what he wanted. 

“No—wait a minute.” Scott said, looking up to where Stiles was standing—dejectedly. “I wanna eat him out for a little bit. I’ll give you a turn. Promise.” He smirked. 

Stiles rolled his eyes with a scoff, but he wasn’t nearly as miffed as he might have looked. He understood Scott’s desire. With somebody as hot as Derek all spread out before them, how could somebody not take the opportunity to rim the everloving fuck out of Derek’s tight hole? So while Scott dove down in-between Derek’s thighs, Stiles jumped up onto the mattress and knee-crawled closer to Derek’s face, leaning down to take Derek’s lips in a savage kiss. 

Derek seemed surprised at the kiss, almost as if it had taken his breath away, but that fact alone only enticed Stiles even more. He liked being able to surprise a werewolf. Stiles and Derek’s lips clashed together powerfully, yet incredibly sloppy—filled with all kinds of untoward sounds that escaped out in-between their draws of new breath. But they continued on. 

“Ever been kissed like this, Der?” Stiles slurred arrogantly, biting teasingly at Derek’s bottom lip. He took Derek in for another demanding kiss, swirling their tongues together, before pulling away to let Derek respond. 

But there wasn’t much of a solid response. Derek just kind of mumbled out something that sounded close to “not really” before nodding the best that he could manage. It was clear that his head was all kinds of fucked up from the tag-team. Scott was doing a good number on his hole, so much so that Derek’s legs were practically vibrating and his hips were involuntarily gyrating. 

Scott had rimmed Derek numerous times before, not that Derek remembered after it was all said and done. But nonetheless, each time felt just as powerful as the first. For Derek, after always getting mindwiped post ‘tablet time’, it was the first time ever getting rimmed— which manifested in the older wolf’s inability to control the way his body quivered with pleasure. 

For Scott, rimming Derek also always felt like it was the first time all over again. It was just that good. Goosebumps flashed across Scott’s tanned skin the moment that his tongue made cruel contact with the sensitive skin of Derek’s tightness and Derek’s body always shivered hard. Every groan, moan, and bitten off, panted word fueled the intimate passion of Scott’s work. 

Scott was merciless with it. He broke Derek down with the precision of his tongue like it was nothing. He made it seem easy with the way that he dug in to Derek’s wetness and swirled the tip of his tongue around, only to follow with the stiff drag of his own wet tongue up Derek’s hole, right up to the man’s ball, and then back down again. It was like punishment for Derek, but one that he would never want to break away from. 

“ _ Scotty— _ ” Derek groaned breathlessly.

Stiles pulled away from kissing Derek with a satisfied huff of breath. “Is he good? Is he giving you what you need?”

Derek’s eyes just fluttered into the back of his head. It seemed as though he couldn’t get any real words out of his mouth. As Scott’s tongue lashed around his tight hole, Derek’s own tongue was tied from the overstimulation. But it was fine, because Stiles was right there to push things along—push things in the direction that they needed to go. 

“Tell him, Derek.” Stiles urged, trading glances from Derek’s reddened lips, down to where Scott’s moppy head of hair was bobbing around with smooth glides as he passionately ate away at Derek’s wet virginity. “C’mon, take your hand, slip your fingers into Scotty’s hair, softly—guide him around, make sure he’s doing it  _ right _ .” 

Stiles took hold of one of Derek’s slack hands and lifted it up, carrying it over so that Derek’s open palm could softly splay across the top of Scott’s head. There was something hot about giving Derek control, even though he was powerless in the situation. He didn’t have control. Stiles and Scott held it. But watching Derek chase it for himself was so fucking hot. It made Stiles’ cock throb against where it was pressed against Derek’s bare hip. 

Derek tugged slightly at Scott’s dark hair, guiding the boy’s head around—but he was completely lost as to what he was really supposed to do. He had never had somebody eat him out before. He had never felt so good from just somebody’s tongue washing over his own hole. At least— that’s what he thought. Little did he know that Scott had lapped around his body many, many times before. 

Eventually, Scott figured that it was time to switch things up. He didn’t really know how much time had passed, seeing as how he had gotten lost in Derek’s taste. Still—it had probably been a substantial chunk of time, and even though Derek wasn’t getting bored with it— he was still shaking where he was laid out—Stiles was more than likely going to want a turn with Derek soon enough. 

Scott pulled his face out from in-between Derek’s spread thighs. He looked a beautifully disheveled mess. His hair was all tousled from Derek’s lame steering work. At the same time, Scott’s mouth and crooked chin were dripping with Derek’s slick. He licked at his lips and then wiped them across his forearm, clicking his tongue to catch Stiles’ attention. 

“Well, he’s all nice and even wetter for us now.” Scott said, winking. He softly slapped his palm down to Derek’s hole, thumbing at where Derek was now even more sensitive than he had been. 

“It’s about fucking time.” Stiles cheered, popping up and off of Derek’s mattress. “You don’t even know how horned up I am for this, man.”

“Uh—yeah, I can fucking see it.” Scott laughed, gesturing down to where Stiles’ fat cock bobbed around in the air as Stiles stood up from the bed. 

Stiles made a show of cockily grabbing onto the base of his dick, jokingly swinging it around in Scott’s direction. He laughed and then slamming his hands down onto Scott’s sturdy shoulders, watching expectantly as Derek sat up from where he had been laid back. Derek’s dick was still raging hard and the glimmer of slick in-between his legs was more enticing than ever. 

Scott stood up from where he had been previously knelt down on the carpeted floor in-between Derek’s legs. He stood up to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Stiles. Together, the two both looked down at where Derek remained on his own bed. There was an unmistakable twinkle of gleeful desperation in Derek’s bright green eyes. But he didn’t say anything. 

Derek just sat there on the cushion of his mattress, staring up to where Stiles and Scott towered above him. He kept biting on his bottom lip, almost as if he didn’t really know what he wanted to say. His thighs were still spread nice and wide, and he could feel his hole flutter involuntarily, eager to be touched. His gaze kept automatically flickering over to where Stiles’ long fingers were delicately fiddling around. 

“Oooh, seems like big bro sees something he’s interested in.” Stiles said cockily, bumping up against Scott’s shoulder. He held up one of his hands and cockily waggled his fingers.

“I think he wants you to fingerfuck him again.” Scott chuckled.

“Look— I’ll do you one better.” Stiles said, gazing down to Derek. “Finger yourself for us. We want to watch. And when you’re right there—body all hot and tense—about to cum again, I’ll give you something better than a couple fingers.”

Derek nodded. There was a lost, feral kind of smirk spread across his face. His tanned skin glowed in the soft bedroom lighting, now entirely dry from shower water. Derek’s lips were still red and sloppy from being mashed up against Stiles’ for an amount of time that Derek could barely even remember. All he knew was that he had been in heaven with Stiles on his lips and Scott rimming his needy hole. 

Tentatively, Derek slid one of his hands down— underneath his balls and hardened cock, right down to where he was hot and dripping with slick. He prodded the tips of two of his fingers into his tightness, shuddering under the touch. And then without having to be told what more he was supposed to do, without being able to bear his own anticipation, Derek shot two of his fingers deeper into himself. 

Derek felt his fingertips sink into his heat and then pushed deeper, past his knuckles. All was lost. A half-broken sob of pleasure slipped out from Derek’s abused mouth. It was almost as if his hand took on its own form of control. His thick fingers, usually accustomed to wrapping around a football or video game controller, were now pounding into his own hole. And he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t  _ want _ to stop himself. 

His fingers chased his heat. As Derek fingerfucked himself harder and rougher, his eyes became increasingly unfocused and hazy. He tried to maintain eye contact with both Scott and Stiles, but his vision continued to fade in-and-out of focus. His head pounded and swirled with desire and he could hear his own thoughts ordering him around, “more, more, more, fuck yourself, fuck your sloppy hole, please them—please Scott, please your brother, please his friend, you’re theirs.”

“He’s—he’s never done that before.” Scott panted, languidly stroking his own cock. 

Stiles was stroking himself with one hand and pinching at his pierced nipple with his other hand. “Done what? Fucked himself on his fingers?”

“Not that hard—not that eagerly. Not even with the programming I’ve done before.”

“Face it, your big brother’s a total fucking slut.” Stiles laughed, prompting Scott to do the same. They both stared on as Derek’s fingers fucked rapidly into his wetness. “Maybe you finally broke him.”

Scott scoffed, thumbing at the head of his own leaking cockhead. His toes curled. “Ha—yeah, right. I mean, you don’t think that could happen do you? Our mom would freak.”

“Uh—yeah, Mom, I kinda broke your eldest son by mindfucking him and turning him into my own personal cumdump. Now he won’t stop fingering his pussy and slobbing on my knob.” Stiles mocked jokingly, pretending to be Scott.

Scott laughed. “No, for real.”

“I don’t know.” Stiles said, shrugging. “Did the tablet come with any kind of instructions or warnings about using it too much on tragically heterosexual older siblings?”

“No.”

“Well, then he’s probably fine.” Stiles reached forward and lovingly pat Derek on the side of his stubbled face, caressing it softly. “I mean, would it even be that bad if he did stay like this? Just imagine it, Scotty. Snap your fingers anytime of the day and you’d have this pretty little mouth gagging on your cock.”

“The fucking dream.”

Stiles snorted. “Yeah, just make him clean himself up before your guys’ mom or his girlfriend come around—cause being drenched in cum is a conversation Derek probably doesn’t want to have anytime soon.”

Ten minutes passed and Derek was still working his fingers into the squelch of his hole as hard as he could manage. His thighs were properly soaked and his legs were quivering even harder than they had been when Scott had been down on his knees, driving his tongue into Derek’s heat. All the while, Scott and Stiles were still watching Derek tear himself apart, all whilst entertaining themselves by trading handjobs. 

Stiles and Scott’s cocks felt somewhat familiar in one another’s hands. It was like they were both operating on each other’s wavelengths, tuning in to just how they each wanted to be touched. Scott was a lot softer with his touch, but each stroke was precise and punishing. Stiles, however, was a lot wilder. He was quicker and rougher. He liked to spit down onto where his fingers were laced around the meat of Scott’s juicy cock. Scott liked it too. 

“Oh—oh god, fuck, Sc—Scott.” Derek managed out in-between tough breaths. He gasped, refusing to let up on the speed of his fingerfucking, and then came again—splashing up onto his massive tits. 

Derek didn’t even bother grabbing onto his own cock. Instead, his hips involuntarily stuttered up into the open air and his dick visibly throbbed as it blasted ropes of white up to stain the wobble of his plumped up tits. Derek’s body vibrated. His tousled hair shook with the movement of him refusing to let up on fingering himself. He looked so hot, so messy, so dazed, but so sloppy and so ready for more. 

Scott relinquished his grip around Stiles’ cock and surged forward over to where Derek was still clumsily working through the brutality of his own orgasm. Scott leaned in and swallowed down some of Derek’s moans with a passionate kiss. He cradled the back of Derek’s head, slipping his hands into the soft strands of Derek’s fresh hair, and kissed unapologetically hard. 

“Come on—” Scott said, breaking away from Derek’s lips. He looked over to where Stiles was standing expectantly, thoroughly pleased with the display. “—sit down on the bed. I’ll lift him up and set him down in your lap.”

“Fuck yeah.” Stiles said, claiming a seat next to where Derek was already sitting. He looked over to Derek’s debauched face, catching the gleam of excitement in Derek’s eyes. “You want that, Derek? You want Scotty to throw you down onto my fat cock?”

“God, yeah.” Derek said breathlessly. He wiggled around where he was sitting. “Fuck me.”

“You heard the slut, bro.” Stiles clapped his hands together. “He wants that tight fuckhole filled.”

With ease, Scott picked Derek up into the strength of his own arms. His biceps bulged as he did it. To outsiders, the very thought of somebody like Scott trying to lift the entirety of Derek’s weight was impossible. But one of the great benefits of being a werewolf meant that Scott could bend steel with his bare hands. So lifting up Derek and all of his beautiful muscle was a piece of cake. 

Scott side-stepped, carrying Derek in his arms, and centered them both in front of where Stiles was sitting in wait on the mattress. And then, with a slow and delicate motion, Scott began to lower Derek down onto Stiles’ lap. At the same time, Stiles held his own cock firmly in his hand and kept careful guide of it, lining it up directly with where Derek’s slick hole was about to press down. 

Derek moaned loudly, throwing his head back with pleasure, as Scott slowly sunk him down onto Stiles’ girth. And just as soon as he was fully seated down onto Stiles’ eight and a half inches, Derek immediately started moving. It was like something fired off inside of his brain. New switches were flipped. His body and his mind jumped at the chance to get fucked. 

“Ah, FUCK!” Stiles cried out, clasping both of his hands at the sides of Derek’s waist. He helped guide the rhythm as Derek began to bounce up and down on his cock, keeping the wolf centered and properly filled at all times.

“That’s definitely the  _ ‘sloppy bottom cockslut’ _ mental trait we programmed into his brain.” Scott noted enthusiastically, watching as the beef of Derek’s chest bounced with each and every downthrust. “He’s fucking starved for it, dude!”

“ _ Shit— _ does he ride you like this? He’s amazing. Fuck, he’s so fucking tight. And so fucking wet.” Stiles groaned, gripping tighter into Derek’s sides. 

Even though Stiles wasn’t strong enough to physically lift Derek into his arms and slide him entirely up and off his cock, he was able to command the brutality of his own thrusts— which is exactly what he did. As Derek bounced down, spearing himself on Stiles’ length, Stiles snapped his hips upward to meet Derek’s ass. And from the sound of Derek’s pitched cries and moans, Stiles was definitely making contact with Derek’s amped up Prostate Sensitivity. 

Derek fucked himself on Stiles’ cock like he couldn’t get enough of it. He bounced around with a maddened pace, letting his tight heat take Stiles down to the root each and every time. Derek couldn’t bear to not slam down so hard. He chased the feeling of Stiles’ hips and thighs crashing upward to smack hard against his own thighs. Derek couldn’t be lazy. He could feel an offshore tide of shame just waiting to wash over him  _ if _ he stopped himself from riding Stiles. 

Derek’s inner walls screamed with pleasure as he clenched down onto Stiles’ girth. He felt so empty when Stiles wasn’t entirely shoved up into him. And as Derek continue to fuck himself open, his body shook violently with an unbelievable feverish shiver that managed to claw its way through his veins in unexpected intervals. But every time that it did, Derek’s hard cock spurt out a stream of precum that splashed onto where Scott was standing in front of him. 

“Ooh, dirty,  _ dirty _ Derek.” Stiles chuckled softly, grabbing into Derek’s hair—pulling at it just rough enough to force Derek’s head to lull backwards. Stiles kissed Derek's neck. “You like that, don’t you? Can’t get enough of it. You’re just not yourself when you don’t have a fat fucking cock stuffed in your fat ass.”

“Don’t stop.” Derek mumbled, grinding down hard on where he was split open on Stiles’ dick.

“We don’t plan on it.” Stiles slurred arrogantly, catching the sinister gleam in Scott’s eyes. 

Derek’s rhythm never once faltered. He continued to bounce up and down on Stiles’ cock, unable to stop himself. His gorgeous muscle was dewey with fresh sweat that poured down the beef of his tits in sweet droplets, coursing down through the ridges of his abs, right down to the non-stop bobble of his hard cock. His breathing was also heavier, slightly raspy and desperate, but he was fine. He was a werewolf. He’d manage. 

“Fuck—my turn.” Scott shouted, grabbing Derek up and off of Stiles’ lap. “Sorry, dude. I can’t— _ fuck _ —I’m so fucking hard.”

“Don’t sweat it, Scotty.” Stiles said, grabbing hold of his slicked-up cock as Derek was lifted off of him. He stood up. “Fuck him. Fuck him good.”

Scott quickly positioned Derek onto his back, slotting himself in-between Derek’s thick, hairy legs. He hoisted Derek’s legs up into the air and let them rest on the broadness of his shoulders and then took his meaty cock into the grip of his own hand. Scott swirled the head of his leaking cock up against Derek’s hole, which had already tightened itself back up following its stretch from Stiles’ girth. And then without as much as a quick exhale of breath, Scott shoved in.

Derek gasped and bit down onto his bottom lip, but Scott’s rapid speed was so quick and rough that he couldn’t even keep his mouth closed. It was knocked open, completely slack, as if screaming silently out to the void as Scott pounded into his body. A particularly harsh thrust knocked a tear out from the corner of Derek’s eyes. It ran down the side of Derek’s face, staining the heat of his skin. But all Derek could do was swallow down a sob. 

Stiles stood on the sidelines and watched, just as Scott had done before. He watched from an angle, allowing him to see Derek’s body get pitched forward under Scott’s thrusts, as well as watch the way Scott’s body moved in time with the rhythm that he decided to go with. And fuck— it was so fucking hot. Stiles felt his balls tingle at the sight alone. 

Scott panted out each time that he drove his cock into Derek’s body. His messy hair flopped around in sync with his wild movement. Sweat, which had been beaded across the tanned skin of his forehead, dripped down to splat against Derek’s hairy chest, which was already soaked and matted down. All the while, Scott kept his hands locked onto the sharpness of Derek’s hip bones to keep the man centered and well within his own grasp.

From where Stiles remained, fervorously jerking himself off, he watched as Scott’s lean back muscles rippled. He watched Scott’s tattooed bicep flex to an insane amount that made him look absolutely massive and powerful. But the best part was the way that Scott’s tanned, plump ass wobbled every time that he thrust forward. Stiles couldn’t even break away from staring. It was begging to be slapped, just as much as Derek’s. 

“Unnf, fuck yeah, Scotty!” Stiles snarled, landing a particularly harsh slap against one of Scott’s tight cheeks. He came up to stand directly alongside where Scott was bent forward, encapsulating Derek’s muscular form. “Jesus fuck, dude. He’s fucking  _ crying _ at how good you’re giving it to him.”

Scott bit back a half-delirious laugh and then reached up, pulling Stiles’ face downward to lock lips. They kissed for a moment, so hard that their lips burned and that their teeth gnashed against one another’s. But as their tastes swirled, their heads launched up into the clouds— fluttering down only when they finally pulled away from each other with satisfied smirks. 

“So fucking hot.” Scott mumbled, looking back down to where Derek had a fucked out, glazed over look in his teary eyes. 

“Somebody’s lost, hmmm.” Stiles laughed, patting at the side of Derek’s face. “How’s Scotty doing, Derek? Is he giving it to you nice and hard and rough? You like getting slapped around and hammered into like a little slut, don’t you?”

“YES!” Derek cried hysterically. 

Derek wrapped his arms around the back of Scott’s neck, desperately trying to figure out how to bring Scott closer into his own body. It worked. He pulled Scott downward into a brief kiss and a nearly inescapable hold. At the same time, Derek dropped both of his legs down from where they had been resting atop Scott’s sturdy shoulders and wrapped them both around Scott’s slender waist, digging the balls of his heels into the dimples of Scott’s lower back. 

The shift of positioning only made it feel as though Scott was piledriving deeper with each thrust. And again, Derek’s body tightened. His heartbeat blasted into his throat, choking him out of being able to say much of anything. He could hear his own blood pumping in his ears. His toes curled hard. And his cock spewed out another massive load—this time sputtering out in-between where his abs were held tightly against Scott’s. 

Stiles cradled the sides of Derek’s face and gave a breathless laugh. “So lucky we maxed out your Cum Load Production.” He said, rubbing tears away from the corner of Derek’s glassy eyes. 

Derek tried to muster up enough strength to reach out for Stiles, but was immediately foiled by the sudden change up in positioning. Scott withdrew his fat cock from out of Derek’s reddened hole and then hopped up from off the mattress to stand with Stiles. Derek just looked on, totally fucked out, yet so hungry to get stuffed again. His hole fluttered. 

“Your turn.” Scott said. 

An entire hour ticked on by—not that anybody had actually cared to notice. Everybody had been far too busy. Scott and Stiles had decided to knock Derek around the confines of the bedroom, pushing and pulling Derek into all kinds of new positions. They had fucked him in any kind of way that they could think. After all, there had been so many different avenues to explore and Derek had been more than willing to please. 

In one instance, Stiles flipped Derek off of the mattress and shoved him down into the carpeted floor. Face smashed into the scratchy carpet, back beautifully arched, fat ass hiked up into the air, Stiles fucked Derek like some kind of sex god. He hammered his massive cock as deep as he could into Derek’s heat. All the while, Derek’s moans and screams were muffled against the floor. Derek’s fat ass wobbled with each thrust and his hands scrambled around in a desperate attempt to hold onto something as his body was jolted around. Unfortunately, all that he managed to blindly grab onto were some overdue library books and Scott’s dirty laundry. 

_ Thirty _ minutes into the hour, Scott had Derek picked up into his arms yet again— this time, shoved back up against one of the bedroom’s walls. As he held Derek up against the drywall, Scott pounded into Derek’s ass—mercilessly. Derek’s legs flailed around in the open air, unsupported by anything, as they just hung there. At the same time, Scott bit and lapped at the side of Derek’s neck— sucking bruises into Derek’s skin, only to watch as they faded away with werewolf healing. 

_ Forty  _ minutes into the hour, Stiles had gotten another turn with Derek. And this time, he had elected to topple all of the neat stacks of paper and collectable knick-knacks that had lined Derek’s personal desk off onto the floor. And once the desk surface had been so clumsily  _ cleared, _ Stiles had Derek sit atop the surface, ass and legs dangling off the edge. Stiles took hold of his own cock and then stuffed it back inside Derek, jumping straight back into an unyieldingly monstrous rhythm. 

And at the strike of the new hour, both Scott and Stiles had Derek back down on the ground—on his hands and knees. Scott had his cock fucked inside Derek’s ass, whilst Stiles took advantage of Derek’s open mouth. The two spitroasted Derek— rough and sloppy—each of their back-and-forth thrusts pitching Derek’s body on and off of another cock. And from the chirped whines that gurgled out of Derek’s stuffed mouth, both Scott and Stiles were sure that Derek liked getting spitroasted the most. 

“I need to cum.” Stiles breathed. 

Stiles was significantly more winded than Scott, but only because he was human and Scott was lucky enough to be a werewolf. Nonetheless, Scott felt the same way about needing to cum. His balls were heavy and aching for a release. Both of the two had fucked Derek multiple times, bringing Derek to blow load after load. Derek’s tanned skin felt tacky to the touch and glimmered with shiny seed. 

“Same.” Scott said, running his hands through his own sweaty hair. He looked back over to Derek’s now messy bed. “Finale time?”

“Finale time.” Stiles confirmed, a devilish grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Scott slapped Derek on the back and then pulled him up to stand from where he had been previously bent over the edge of his own mattress. Slick was leaking down the back of his thighs. As Derek took a standing position, he seemed to sway, completely unable to stand firm in his placement. His eyes looked hazy, but there remained an eager sparkle in the emerald color. 

Scott picked Derek up into the strength of his arms again, the same as he had done an hour prior when he had needed to lower Derek onto Stiles’ lap. But this time around, Scott just cradled Derek’s body in his own capable arms, almost like he was going to rock him away into sleep. Sleep— however, was nowhere near the intention. As Derek wrapped his arms around the back of Scott’s neck, utilizing his own strength to remain hoisted above the ground, Scott used one of his hands to reach down and guide his own dick back into Derek’s hole. 

He eased in slowly, this time making sure to savor it. Scott drank in the sound of Derek’s tightness squelch with wetness as he slid in, giving his hips a good and sudden pitch forward to watch as Derek’s eyes widened in pleasure. And then, Scott whistled and nodded his head in Stiles’ direction, motioning over for Stiles to come and take him place behind where Derek was held up and speared open on one cock. 

Stiles was about to jump out of his skin with glee. He looked a horrid wreck, all sweaty and disheveled. But he practically hopped over to his positioning and then grabbed hold of his cock. Slowly, like Scott had done, he  _ too _ slipped his cock into Derek’s ass— laughing out the moment that Derek’s entire body shook and Derek whimpered out against Scott’s neck. 

“You can take it.” Stiles cooed, pressing his nose up against the back of Derek’s neck. “That’s the kind of slut we programmed you to be. Always open, always ready, so desperate to be bred.”

Derek gave a feeble nod and then looked over his shoulder to where Stiles was standing. He looked Stiles dead in the eye and then a dopey, half-cocked grin spread across Derek’s sloppy face. And at once, Scott and Stiles took that as the cue to start up their simultaneous thrusts. Derek’s smirk instantly morphed into a wide open breathy yell of surprise. 

Scott and Stiles hammered their cocks into Derek’s tightness, working in tandem with one another the best that they could to bring about their own orgasm whilst giving Derek the kind of pleasure that he was programmed to crave. Derek was so slicked up and wet that it was easy for the two to simply glide in-and-out of Derek’s heat, repeatedly, without needing to pause to readjust themselves. 

“He feels even tighter—FUCK!” Stiles groaned, pounding up into Derek. He couldn’t get enough of the combined feeling of Derek’s tightness  _ and  _ rubbing up against Scott’s cock. 

“Could a straight boy ever do this?” Scott breathed, looking up under his lashes to meet Derek’s glossy green eyes. “No—no way. No way you’re straight, Der. Thank god I can change it—change you—you’re ours.”

“Tell him, Scotty,” Stiles cried, speeding up his thrusts. Scott quickly matched the change in pace. 

“See that—?” Scott used one of his hands to grab at Derek’s gruff jaw, forcing Derek’s head to turn just enough to see where the tablet was innocently laying atop Scott’s bed. “It did this—it helped us. We rewrote you. Took you, took your mind, took your body, and rewrote it—everything, reprogrammed it, made you our whore— _ our slut _ .”

Stiles turned Derek’s face to look in the opposite direction, over to look at where Derek’s bed was messy and empty, slightly damp with sweat and slick. “Look at that—you rode us. You cried for it, begged, screamed for it. And you rode us, hard and long, like a fucking pro. And we gave it to you like _we_ _made you_ want it—pushed down, muffled away into your pillow, you rode our cocks.”

“—like—you’re—riding us—now.” Scott grunted out in-between each thrust. 

“fuckfuckfuckFUCK—I’m gonna fucking blow, fuck—fuck, Scott, fuck—! Stiles cried, grinding his teeth—hips starting to involuntarily lose their rhythm. 

“ _ Me too _ —FUCK— _ me too _ .” 

At once, all  _ three _ felt their bodies draw high and then fall. They crashed. Scott and Stiles’ synced thrusts faltered hard as they felt their own cocks pump splash after splash of hot cum into Derek’s body, burning white hot into the overworked pink of Derek’s slick walls. So much so that their combined load quickly sputtered out around where Derek’s hole was wrapped around their combined girth, dribbling out to stain the carpet below. 

Derek came again—this time, noticeably harder. In fact, he came so hard that he half-wolfed out. His side-burns grew out. His eyes flared red. His nails elongated. And his fangs sprouted as he screamed up towards the ceiling—so loud that the windows of the bedroom rattled violently. At the same time, his cock spit out another massive load, splashing against Scott’s abs yet again. 

As the three came down, Stiles withdrew his spent cock and sucked in a healthy breath, satisfied with himself. Scott carried Derek over to his bed and dropped him down, watching as Derek’s body gave random, convulsed jolts. He was still coming down, harder than anybody else. But it was what he deserved.

Scott and Stiles met in the middle of the bedroom and embraced, wrapping their arms around each other, giving one another’s asses a couple firm squeezes and slaps. And then they slammed their lips together and made out for a few seconds, letting their heartbeats flutter down into post-orgasm territory. They laughed, surveying the ‘damage’. They looked so messy, Derek looked like a wreck, and now Derek’s side of the bedroom was equally as horrid as Scott’s. 

“ _ Fuck _ , now what?” Stiles asked, watching as Scott walked over and picked up the tablet. 

“We tell Derek to clean up his pig-stye of a room, take a shower, and then reset him back to his boring, aggressively heterosexual self.” Scott said, holding up the tablet, pointing at the ‘RESET’ function. 

“I don’t want to sound like a whiny brat, but damn— do we really have to? Reset him, I mean.” Stiles said, crossing his arms. His softened cock gave a slight twitch. 

“I mean, yeah—I can’t have mom catch Derek walking around with his little brother’s load dripping out of his ass.”

Stiles shot a disapproving glance over to Derek. “ _ Fine. _ ”

“Don’t worry, though— we have the whole rest of the week until your dad gets back.” Scott confirmed. “And now that you know about the tablet, we can do this whenever.”

Stiles just smirked, watching as Scott typed up some boring, chore-ish type tasks for Derek to complete once he caught his breath. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Big Brother! I hope you guys liked it! Please leave kudos and comments, I love to read them and will try to respond to the ones that I get. As always, I encourage you to leave any thoughts, critiques, or suggestions that you might have. I will be writing more M.O.R.P.H fics sometime. Master-tech gives you limitless possibilities! 
> 
> Thank you! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you guys enjoyed the first chapter of this fic. I know that nothing majorly huge happened yet, but I needed to lay some serious groundwork in order for this kind of thing to make sense. Also, I hope that you'll be able to get even deeper into this kind of fic with the graphics that I made for it. 
> 
> As always, I appreciate any kudos, comments, and critiques. I'll try to respond to any comment that I get. 
> 
> Thanks :D


End file.
